


Obsession

by sussiekitten



Series: Obsession 'Verse [2]
Category: Inheritance Cycle - Christopher Paolini
Genre: Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Blood Drinking, Consent Issues, Dragons, F/M, M/M, Mates, Mildly Dubious Consent, Mpreg, Mythical Beings & Creatures, Sexual Content, Vampires, Werewolves
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2010-12-23
Updated: 2017-09-23
Packaged: 2017-10-14 00:27:16
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Rape/Non-Con
Chapters: 16
Words: 124,013
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/143315
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/sussiekitten/pseuds/sussiekitten
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Part two of the Obsession series. In Alagaësia mythological creatures didn’t exist sorely in stories; they were real. And Eragon was about to realise just how real the consequences of meeting one was.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Haunting Me

**Notes for the Chapter:**

>  **Disclaimer:** I don't own Eragon or anything associated with the Inheritance Cycle.
> 
> This universe will feature one of my human versions of Saphira/Thorn’s appearances. Because they are what I call Hydra - a human form of a dragon creature - they don't look exactly like humans. Saphira has naturally blue hair and Thorn has naturally red eyes. For more information, look to the first story in this series; _Haunted_.
> 
> While CP’s canon has Brom’s dragon share the name with Eragon’s, I decided to change her name to Safina to avoid any potential confusion. 
> 
> A huge thanks to my betas Illyric and Nikki for all the help you have given me.
> 
>  _ **Word**_  – word written in my language _Andelan_.
> 
>  _-Speech.-_ Eragon/Saphira, Murtagh/Thorn and Thorn/Saphira talking to each other mentally.

_::April::_

When Saphira woke up she was instantly on alert. Her vision was sharp and in muted colours before she blinked and the dragon vision faded. Every time she woke up she would be on guard and ready for a new day. As a hydra she wasn’t graced with the pleasure of being groggy and disoriented in the mornings. And seeing as she lived with someone who had that privilege, Saphira was glad she didn’t have it.

The blue eyed girl yawned, more out of habit than necessity, and got up. She spent a few short minutes in the bathroom before walking back out to change. She changed into a pair of sweat pants and a wide collared and large t-shirt. Then she got up to make breakfast and to check on Eragon. Hadn’t it been for her, Saphira thought to herself, Eragon wouldn’t have been on time for anything in his life.

The instant she stepped out of her room she noticed that something was wrong. Everything in the apartment looked to be in place, the door and windows were still firmly shut, but that wasn’t what she was looking at. No, Saphira was looking at her best friend’s bedroom. It wasn’t completely shut.

A second later she had crossed the distance between their rooms and pushed the door open.

“Eragon?!” she called out, not even caring that desperation was visible in her voice.

What she first noticed was that the bed had been touched, but not slept in. Then she saw the rose on the bedside table. She walked over and picked it up. It had thorns on it. She put it down and prepared to check the bathroom. Her bare feet stepped over something that made a faint sound. Saphira looked down.

She blinked and bent down to pick up the papers. It was a fairly nice envelope, unmarked and she could see it hadn’t been sealed. She flipped over the card and read the words written on it. Written in neat calligraphy and black ink was the message; _**U**_ _ntil next time, love._

With the card and envelope still in her hands, she briskly walked over to the bathroom. She knocked softly.

“Eragon?”

Panic entered her heart when she heard no reply. She opened the door slowly. The papers fell out of her hands as she practically jumped across of the room to sit beside her friend.

“Eragon, what’s wrong?” she murmured softly.

Eragon sat inside the shower cubical. His knees were drawn up to his chest and his arms were holding them in a tight grip. His gaze was unfocused and staring out in front of him.

“Have you been here all night?” Saphira asked and laid a hand gently on his shoulder.

Eragon suddenly stiffened and his eyes became the clear chocolate colour that Saphira was so used to. But the panic in his eyes and his irregular breathing scared her. Something was wrong, _very_ wrong.

“He’s coming for me,” Eragon whispered quietly; so quietly that hadn’t it been for Saphira’s sharp hearing, she might not have heard it.

“Who is?”

But Eragon just shook his head.

“I’m doomed, Saphira. He’s going to come and kill me,” he whispered urgently.

“Who, Eragon? You have to tell me, or I can’t help you,” Saphira said and grasped onto both of his shoulders.

“No one can help me,” the brunet mumbled and shook his head.

Saphira had never felt quite as helpless as she did then. She bit her bottom lip and made up her mind.

“I’m taking you to Brom,” Saphira said and pulled him to his feet. “He’ll know what to do.”

**::OBSESSION::**

Brom had been his mentor ever since his uncle had passed away. Eragon had never known his parents. His mother Selena had died giving birth to him, and his father had run away when he had heard the news. He had grown up with his uncle Garrow, who had died from cancer when Eragon had been fifteen. His cousin Roran had only been able to do so much, since he had been eighteen back then, and had struggled to support them and Saphira while going to college. It was then Brom had stepped in.

Brom had put in a good word with an old friend of his, and so Eragon and Saphira had gotten a job with reasonable hours and pay that people who were fifteen could only dream of getting. When Eragon had needed something, Brom had let him know his door was always open. The older man had been a friend of Selena, and had been a part of Eragon’s life ever since he could remember. And when Roran had to leave Carvahall to pursue the career he wanted, it had been Brom that had kept a watchful eye on him and Saphira.

But Eragon had to wonder what sort of reaction he would be welcomed with this time. He was sure Brom had never had to deal with a teenager that had become a vampire’s next target.

Saphira had barely given him time to get into a pair of jeans and to grab a jacket before she had pulled him out of the apartment and in the direction of Brom’s home. It took them two minutes to walk over there, but two minutes had never seemed longer in Eragon’s eyes. The shadows seemed to be following him, and more than once Eragon could have sworn to feel eyes watching him. It was no wonder he looked like a wreck when they finally arrived.

“Saphira, Eragon?” Brom said and wrinkled his brow in confusion.

“We need to talk to you, sir,” Saphira said and her hand clenched a little tighter around Eragon’s wrist.

Brom just held the door open for them to enter. Eragon barely remembered to take off his shoes before he was dragged into Brom’s living room and pushed gently down onto the couch.

“Eragon, tell Brom what’s going on,” Saphira begged him as she sat down beside him.

Brom’s frown deepened as he sank down into an old and worn armchair.

“Eragon?”

The brunet opened his mouth to speak, but no words would come out of his mouth. He took a long glance around in the room to see if there was anything there he could use to talk for him. He flinched when he saw a painting of a young man who was clearly, judging by the colour in his eyes and the fangs that caressed his lips, a vampire. Eragon raised a shaky hand and pointed at the painting.

“What about that painting, Eragon?” Brom asked and folded his hands in his lap.

“Is that a -? Eragon, you didn’t!?” Saphira exclaimed and shot her friend a desperate and pained look.

Eragon opened his mouth, but had to settle with nodding as he yet again found himself unable to speak.

“Saphira, what is going on?” Brom asked firmly.

“I think that what Eragon is trying to say is that he got bitten by a vampire last night,” Saphira said and bit her lip. “And judging by the card, that wasn’t all the vampire did.”

The armchair creaked as Brom stood up so hurriedly that it skidded backwards. Brom’s grey eyes were devoid of any humour and hadn’t left Eragon since Saphira had spoken.

“Eragon, is this true?” he asked gravely.

The brunet nodded and tried to blink away the tears that were starting to build up in his eyes.

“ ** _Morthor_**!” Brom barked.

Saphira jumped slightly. Eragon sometimes forgot that she hadn’t known Brom as long as he had. Brom was fluent in _Andelan_ , the language that usually only magicians or elves use. Brom had been a rider when he had been younger, but sadly his dragon had been killed in the riot against Galbatorix. Brom had once told Eragon that it had been his dragon, a female with turquoise and soft green shells, had taught him the language.

“Eragon, how could you be so -?”

Eragon looked up. Brom had sunk down into his seat again, and his hands were covering his face. Brom had never looked as old as he did when he lifted his gaze again.

“Tell me what happened,” Brom said and folded his hands before his face.

“...He seduced me, he fucked me, and he bit me,” Eragon said in a small voice. “And when I came home, there was a rose on my bed and a note under it.”

“What colour was the rose? What did the note say?” Brom asked with narrowed eyes.

“Black. Or, you know, greyish red. And it said; _until we meet again_...” Eragon said and cursed inwardly when his voice caught.

“Yes? What else?”

“Love. _Until we meet again, love_ ,” Saphira answered for him. “That’s what it said.”

“That...” Brom started to mumble darkly.

Eragon almost smiled when he heard the word _**morthric**_ come from Brom’s mouth.

“Do you have any idea what you’ve gotten yourself into?” Brom asked tiredly.

“So, this is it? I’m really doomed?” Eragon said and looked away, unable to look at his mentor anymore.

Forget building up, the tears were filled to the rim and ready to fall.

“Doomed? Oh, had it been that simple, my boy,” the older man said and laughed tiredly.

Eragon frowned and looked back at the older man. Brom was smiling sadly, his gaze locked at his hands.

“From the moment I met you, I knew you were special. But this, my boy, this takes the cake,” Brom said and stood up.

Eragon followed him with his eyes. He brushed at his eyes to make sure that they were still dry, and watched as Brom walked up to a bookcase and took down an old tome. Then he walked back and placed the book gently onto the table.

“I, like you Eragon, was a very curious boy. My parents warned me against getting too curious, and being the foolish boy I was, I ignored their words,” Brom paused to open the book and start to flip gently through the pages. “And I got myself into quite a bit of trouble because of that. But it was only when I met my first vampire that I realised just how much trouble I had gotten myself into.”

“You have –?” Eragon asked quietly.

“Oh yes,” Brom’s eyes twinkled for a second before they turned serious again. “He is rumoured to be the most sadistic vampire that has ever walked this earth, and the only one he would answer to was our **dear** King.”

Brom stopped flipping and turned the book around. Eragon and Saphira leaned over to look at the page. Saphira flinched in surprise beside him.

“I’ve heard of him. The **_ghalack_** of _**ghalacken**_ ,” Saphira said, practically spitting out her words as she spoke. “Morzan.”

Brom smiled almost proudly at her. Eragon studied the picture before him. Dark hair had been pulled back in a tight ponytail at the base of his neck. The rest of the hair hung around his ears and face. A pair of cold and dark eyes stared up at him. His face as blank and he was clothed in all black.

“You met this guy?” Eragon asked softly, a hint of fear his voice.

He looked even more evil than...Eragon shook his head to clear his mind of that man.

“Indeed, I was just that lucky,” Brom said and ran a hand through his greying hair. “I was lucky the first time and got away unscratched. But the next time I was older and more confident in myself, and that was almost my end. Vampires have an enormous strength when they bother to use it. And Morzan bothered.”

“How did you get away the second time?” Saphira asked softly.

“Well, hadn’t it been for his son, I would probably not have gotten away at all,” Brom said and scratched the stubbles on his cheek. “It was not that long after the riot, and while it had been almost a year since I had lost Safina, my dragon, somehow his son was able to see loss on my face. I can still remember it to this day. He said to Morzan; ‘That man has lost his dragon. I’d rather not have to deal with you being moody after drinking yourself sadder, father.’ And just like that, Morzan let me go.”

Brom let out a bark like laugh.

“Of course, I later heard that Morzan had lost his dragon as well,” he said. “And then, just a few days later, Morzan was killed.”

“I heard about that,” Saphira said with a small frown.

“You did?” Eragon asked.

“Morzan wasn’t just a human killer; he was a dragon killer too. My family rejoiced when he died.”

Eragon winced slightly.

“But I can’t remember who killed him,” Saphira commented.

“His own son,” Brom replied. “I knew it from the moment I saw him; that boy would only cause trouble. The worst thing Morzan did was to have a child and then kill the mother. That boy never got to mourn her and was raised to be a killer. Morzan had a child with a human just so that he could have a vampire child.”

“What?” Eragon said and frowned.

“You see Eragon, when a vampire has an offspring with someone other than their mate, their child will be born a vampire. You can’t get a more evil creature than that,” Brom said and shook his head sadly. “But when a vampire gets a child with their mate, their child will be born what their mother is.”

Saphira nodded slightly.

“But back to the point. You see, Eragon, there are two times when a vampire calls someone their love,” Brom said and raised one finger for each cause he told them. “The first time is when they choose their mate. The second time is when they let you know that they like you and that you’re going to die.”

“But, I...you can’t...” Eragon found himself speechless. “You can’t be serious!”

“I’m deadly serious,” Brom said firmly and closed the book. “Either way this might play out, you’ve gotten a vampire after yourself, boy.”

“But...no!” Eragon protested.

“He seduced you, he bedded you, he bit you, and he let you live. I’m afraid there’s nothing you can do but to hold on tight. You’re in for a bumpy ride, Eragon, no matter which scenario you’re facing.”

Eragon bit his lip, a thousand protests on his tongue, but he willed them down. He closed his eyes tightly and willed everything to go away. This could **not** be happening!! It had to be a dream!

“ ** _Ilx_** ,” Eragon breathed.

He wasn’t waking up. Damnit!

Eragon jumped when he felt two arms encircle him. When he saw a tuff of blue hair enter his vision, he allowed himself to relax into the hold.

“We’ll get you through this, Eragon,” Saphira whispered softly into his ear. “It’ll all work out.”

“But until then, you need to always have a friend beside you,” Brom said and pursed his lips. “If it’s possible, have someone sleep in the same room. You aren’t allowed to go anywhere alone, and you can’t be at home alone either. The **_ghalack_** knows where you live.”

Eragon gulped. He had actually forgotten about that.

“ _Oh God_ ,” he murmured. “I’m going to die.”

“No, you are not,” Brom said firmly. “We need to get you unscratched through this first week, and then we can breathe a little easier.”

“Why?” Eragon asked almost hysterically. “I’m dead either way, right?”

Brom, who had walked over to his bookcase and was looking through its content, turned around.

“No. If he’s telling you that you’re going to die, then you need to be extra cautious during the following month, the first week in particular. He’s without a doubt fascinated by you, and so you need to keep a low profile. If you can stay out of his sight for a month, he might lose interest and move on to someone else. It has happened before,” Brom sighed and started to look over his books again.

“If he has chosen you, then this first week is going to be very confusing for the vampire. A vampire usually doesn’t need to feed more than once a month, hence why you need to stay out of his sight for this time period, but a few have a more sadistic streak in them and feed once a week. If he is such a vampire, then you need to be even more careful,” the older man said and went back to looking at titles. “He won’t understand the feelings that are going to appear in him, and he’ll get more aggressive. He might try to bite a few more people, and by doing such he’ll either get sick or slowly go mad. Or both. You aren’t allowed to talk to him under any circumstances, do you understand?”

“Yes, sir,” Eragon breathed.

“Good,” Brom said as he walked back and pushed three books into Eragon’s hands. “Read these and try to understand them. If not, then talk to me. I want you both back here in a week exactly. When were you bitten yesterday? Before midnight?”

Eragon just nodded.

“Never mind then. You’re coming back with me after class. I understood it such that you had a chimera friend? How active would you say the elf is in him?”

“Very,” Saphira answered for him. “His ears are very pointed and he has the same eyes as his sister. He’s taller than her too, actually.”

“Good,” Brom murmured to himself. “Bring him along as well. Vampires have never gotten along with elves, and to have a male with elf blood in him around you is the best thing to do right now. It might convince the vampire to stay clear, especially if he’s just fascinated by you.”

Saphira nodded for the both of them. Eragon tried to make sense of everything that had just happened. The lack of sleep must be getting to him, he decided.

“Be careful now, kids. If anything happens, come to me right away,” Brom said and ushered them out the door. “And then I mean **anything**.”

Eragon shuddered at how Brom’s eyes seemed to almost stare right through him. It was a chilling quality.

“We will, sir. Thank you so much!” Saphira said and started to drag Eragon the way home.

The brunet shook his head and nearly stumbled when Saphira upped their speed. Eragon had never felt so confused and lost in his entire life.

**::OBSESSION::**

“You lied to us?!”

“Aksel, try to get past that,” Saphira begged softly.

“Uh-uh, I ain’t letting him off the hook that easily. You **lied** to us!?” Aksel nearly barked.

Eragon sighed into his hands. Fifteen minutes ago Saphira had dragged him off to Arya and Nasuada’s apartment and had yelled for Aksel to get his ass there pronto at the same time. Five minutes later Saphira had proceeded to tell the trio what had actually happened the night before. And for the past ten minutes, she had also been trying to get Aksel to see past the whole ‘Eragon had lied’ part.

“Aksel, would you have told us the truth if you had banged a vampire?” Eragon asked deadpanned and lifted his head to look at his friend.

The blond opened his mouth, probably to say the first thing that came to his mind, but Arya slammed a hand over it before he could say a word.

They were all seated around Nasuada and Arya’s coffee table. Saphira, Eragon and Nasuada sat on the couch while Arya and Aksel had taken two chairs out of the kitchen and sat on the other side of the table. Eragon was extremely glad that it was Arya sitting next to Aksel at that moment. Had it been him, he would have punched Aksel hard.

“Ignore my brother,” she said and sent a glare Aksel’s way. “But that is what Prof. Brom said? Either you’re his mate or he wants to kill you?”

Eragon winced. He really didn’t like that word.

“Technically, if Eragon is his chosen one, he won’t be his mate until the vampire acknowledges the bond. And from what I’ve heard, that’s going to be tricky,” Nasuada said softly.

“When did you become an expert?” Eragon asked with a slight frown.

“Have you forgotten already?” Nasuada asked with a small laugh. “My father’s a professor at the college, in Ancient History.”

“Ah,” Eragon breathed.

He had forgotten that. And really, it was humiliating that he had. Ajihad Black, Nasuada’s father, had been accidentally bitten by a dying werewolf ten years ago. When a werewolf was dying, its only thought is to leave a legacy behind. A werewolf had been injured somehow, the police had suspected illegal hunters, and had crawled too close to the city border. And it was then that Ajihad had stumbled along. Luckily all the werewolf had done was to bite him. Ever since Ajihad had lectured Nasuada about what was happening to him, and that it wasn’t a bad thing. That Ajihad was friends with Brom helped a lot, since Brom was the expert on creatures in the city of Carvahall.

Eragon could only imagine what those two talked about over...well, whatever they ate or drank.

“But you were saying?” Arya asked and pulled her hand away from her brother’s mouth.

Aksel pouted slightly from having been silenced until he leaned forward to listen to Nasuada as well.

“Well, from what I’ve understood, there is only one sin that a vampire can commit, and that is finding their mate,” the dark eyed woman said and folded her hands in her lap.

“Huh?” Aksel burst out.

“I’m getting there,” Nasuada said, amusement twinkling in her eyes. “Once a vampire is mated, they often become calmer and less violent. Many vampires see this as traitorous, and the thought of being chained down like that, only being able to live off of one person, is just confusing and wrong in their eyes. I’ve heard stories of vampires that killed their mate just so that they wouldn’t get closed off from the society.”

“That’s -!” Saphira breathed angrily, unable to finish her sentence.

“I know,” Nasuada said sombrely. “I’ve also heard that the vampires that did this died shortly thereafter. They forgot that they couldn’t live off of anyone else and slowly died.”

Eragon gulped. So that was what Brom had meant during the lecture. No wonder he had said that both outcomes had meant death.

“No wonder I’m not allowed to go anywhere alone,” Eragon drawled unenthusiastically.

“Eragon,” Saphira scolded softly. “We’re just not taking any chances. Either he’s looking for a chance to kill you, or he might hurt you in all the confusion. He might not even mean to do it, but with everything that might be going on in his head, he can hurt you. We’re here to make sure that doesn’t happen. And if he’s here to kill you, we’re here to kill him first.”

Eragon just sent her a tired smile. He knew she was only looking out for him, but everything suddenly just seemed too dark and impossible. Especially if _that guy_ wanted him dead.

“Which brings me back to my other point. Aksel, you’ve gotten a job!”

Aksel perked up at this. He looked suspiciously at the blue haired girl before nodding once.

“You’re never going to leave Eragon’s side, unless you have class. He’ll be staying with you for the upcoming month as well, per Brom’s orders,” Saphira paused before continuing to explain. “When I can’t walk to class with him, you’re going to. I don’t want to drag Arya and Nasuada away from their work, and Brom said you would be the best candidate.”

“The old man has a point,” Arya commented before her brother could protest. “Aksel’s elf blood is almost unnaturally active. Maybe your mom wasn’t a pure human, after all?”

Aksel just shrugged.

“I have no idea. She never talked about dad or her own background much,” he said simply.

“And vampires aren’t very fond of elves!” Nasuada commented. “Brom sure knows his stuff.”

Eragon replied to this by banging his head against the table.

“It’s because he knows his stuff that I know how doomed I am!” he moaned.

“...You would rather...not know?” Arya asked and Eragon could hear the frown on her face.

“Yes.”

“Hey, at least you didn’t ask what the chances were of you being preggers,” Aksel said with a small wink.

The room fell silent. Eragon felt his eyes widen as his mind screeched to a halt. **WHAT**?!

Arya, after a short silence, leant over and smacked Aksel hard in the back of his head.

“Oy! What did you do that for?” he asked with a large pout.

“Moron,” the green eyed female growled. “Eragon has enough to think about without worrying whether or not he’s carrying!”

“Guys, I think you killed him,” Nasuada piped up hesitantly.

Eragon shook his head forcefully. He hadn’t even noticed that Saphira had been waving a hand in front of his face for God only knows how long.

“Brom told us about this yesterday, remember?” Saphira said softly. “At the lecture? All the guys were squirming and you couldn’t stop blushing?”

There was only one word going on inside Eragon’s mind. _Fuck, fuck, fuck, fuck, fuck, FUCK!_

“ ** _Morthor_** ,” the word escaped his lips unintentionally, his mind too focused on not saying the actual word for him to notice it escaping in _Andelan_.

“Eragon!” Nasuada gasped. “Where did you learn that?”

“From Brom, I’d suspect,” Saphira said deadpanned. “You should have heard the words he used when we told him.”

“I recall you being quite vulgar too, Saph,” Eragon commented.

Saphira blushed prettily.

“That’s my girl,” Arya said and smirked. “But back to the issue. You do realise that it’s a possibility?”

“Then why didn’t Brom mention it?” Eragon asked, praying that his friends could be wrong.

“Well, you normally can’t detect a pregnancy until it’s at least a week old. And he did tell you to come back next Friday,” Nasuada said and gave him a sad smile.

Eragon had the urge to bang his head against the table again. Forget earlier, this had to be a dream!!

“Eragon, Brom probably didn’t want to scare you more. Aksel here just doesn’t know when to shut up,” Saphira said softly, running a gentle hand through his hair as she did so.

Aksel looked thoroughly offended, but Eragon didn’t really pay any attention to what was going on around him. All he could think was; ‘ _I’m doomed, I’m so so doomed_ ’ and ‘ _please don’t let me be knocked up! I’ll do anything, just please don’t let me be!_ ’

**::OBSESSION::**

“Welcome to my humble abode,” Aksel said and spread his arms.

Eragon let out a sigh and looked around in Aksel’s apartment. It was slightly smaller than his and Saphira’s, but apart from having one bedroom and the bathroom next to it, it looked about the same. Just messier, but that was to be expected. It was Aksel after all.

“Now, the old man said you should sleep in the same room as me?” Aksel asked and pushed open the door.

“Err, yeah. Something about -”

“Vamps not liking elfies,” Aksel recited dully. “I feel for you, dude. I really do.”

Eragon gave a half-smile before entering. It had been cleaned, that much Eragon could tell. He suspected that Arya had forced her brother to tidy a bit and drag in an extra mattress for him before he had come. The brunet let out another sigh and sat down heavily upon the mattress.

“Oy, don’t look so down, buddy,” the blond elf said and sat down beside him. “This’ll all work out somehow.”

Eragon laughed bitterly.

“Yeah, when?” he practically spat.

“I dunno,” Aksel said honestly. “But you just worry about surviving the last of college for now.”

Eragon look down at the floor with a small frown on his face.

“That’s two months from now. I don’t even have to worry about the exams just yet,” he mumbled softly.

“Well, look at the bright side. This is just your first year. You can just fine take a year off after this term,” the green eyed male said with a half-grin.

“...And that’s the bright side, why?” Eragon asked and lifted an eyebrow.

Aksel suddenly became very interested in fluffing his own pillows.

“Oh, I dunno...maybe if this thing blows up or something. But hey, let’s not dwell on things like that!” Aksel said and laughed a forced laugh. “I promise not to molest you while you’re here, and you promise not to snore. Okay, who’s up for take-out?”

Eragon watched with wide eyes as the blond dashed out of the room and heard him drop the phone onto the floor and cursed loudly.

“Um, Aksel? Calm down,” Eragon said a little hesitantly. “You’re more freaked out than I am.”

“Uh, sorry,” the other said sheepishly and rubbed the back of his neck. “I just...I’m not a big fan of, you know, bloodsucking thingies.”

“Neither am I,” the brunet said and bent down to pick up the forgotten phone. “But you don’t see me fluffing up pillows and changing topics faster than a magician in an occult shop, do you?”

Aksel answered with a half-smirk.

“He’s supposed to want to stay away from you, remember?” Eragon said and tried and failed to smile encouragingly. “It’s me he wants.”

“That doesn’t make me feel safer,” the blond elf said and laughed awkwardly.

Eragon presented him with a tired glare.

“You just stay close to me, and if he dares to show then Saphira will probably kill him in rage.”

“Alright, that didn’t make me feel any safer.”

Eragon hit the other in the back of his head with the phone. It wasn’t a simple feat, seeing as Aksel was easily a head taller than him.

“Ouch!” Aksel said and pouted.

“You deserved it,” Eragon stated simply. “Now, order some food, would you?”

The blond took the phone and saluted. Eragon just rolled his eyes and walked back into the bedroom, Aksel’s soft laughter following him inside. The brunet searched around in his bag until he found what he was looking for. He slipped it into his pocket and hoped that the upcoming month would pass without difficulty or accidents.

**::OBSESSION::**

Eragon stepped into his last class and only class on Friday with what he could only assume to be panic on his face. Saphira gently led him over to their usual seats and sat him down. Eragon let out a shuddering breath and pulled out his notebook and a pen. His hands were shaking, but then again, they hadn’t stopped since he had walked out of the apartment complex that same morning.

The clock above the wall showed that a new hour had begun, and the brunet couldn’t keep himself from shuddering. He had felt unusually cold ever since he had come home Friday night, but it had gotten worse when he had remembered his classes. Every day since then Eragon had left the apartment in baggy hoodies that he felt somewhat warm in. That day however had been worse. He was going back with Brom that afternoon, and the chills had just seemed to double at that thought. Therefore he had worn a black and, according to Saphira, favourite comfort hoodie that day. And, as he buried his chin in the material, he mentally agreed with her.

 _-Are you alright, Eragon?-_ Saphira asked mentally, though her worried gaze alone could have spoken for her.

-No,- Eragon answered. _-I’m so nervous it feels like I’m choking!_

__-Then breathe,-_ Saphira softly coached. _-You’ll get through this just fine.-__

_-No!-_ Eragon nearly exclaimed out loud. _-I have a feeling that Brom has a surprise for us today, and then I don’t mean a good one.-_

Saphira crocked an eyebrow in surprise. She opened her mouth to speak out loud, but just then Brom strode into the room.

Eragon couldn’t help but to notice that he looked slightly jumpy. But nonetheless, there was a half-smirk on his face. Oh yeah, he knew Brom had prepared a surprise for them today.

“Settle down!” the older man called out, though today he hadn’t needed to since the class had fallen silent upon his arrival.

He spent the next minute hooking his laptop to the projector and presented them with a blank page.

“Today kids, I’ll let you decide what we’ll go through. I was originally going to continue on our fanged friends, but I’ll let you decide just this once.”

Eragon felt his face pale. He gulped loudly and tried to will the floor to swallow him whole.

Several voices started to mumble the same word all across the room. Eragon was actually surprised that a few guys said the word as well.

“Alright, vampires it is,” Brom said and pressed the button in his hand once. “I had a feeling you were going to say that.”

The screen lit up with a new background, but the same headline that had been present during the previous two lectures. And Eragon found himself shocked when he recognized the picture. It was the same one that Brom had in his living room!

“Today I thought we could focus a bit on modern vampires,” Brom said and pressed the button again. “You’ve all heard about Lestat and Dracula, but there are a few people throughout history I’m sure you didn’t know were vampires or of vampiric descent...”

Eragon started to write down, still with a shaky hand, the names Brom came with and the things he told. And so thirty minutes passed.

“Prof,” a guy a few seats down from Saphira and Eragon called out in a slightly bored drawl. “Will you be mentioning Morzan?”

A few mumbles started to rise. Eragon, if possible, paled even more and his grip around the pen tightened painfully. Saphira reached over with her unoccupied hand and touched his shoulder, sending calming whispers and feelings into him without even opening her mouth or looking away from their professor.

Brom stopped his slight pacing and chuckled.

“I was wondering which one of you was going to mention that name,” he said and stroked his slight beard. “I suppose, as the most famous vampires of the modern times, I ought to mention him, hmm?”

A few male students looked almost hungrily at their professor, waiting in excitement for what he was about to reveal. Eragon prepared himself for a repetition of what he had heard not even a week ago, and was about to look away when the screen before him flickered. His eyes widened and he could feel Saphira’s shock through their mental link.

“Even though this man raged and rampaged a few years before your time, he lived just enough to see the fourth year of King Hrothgar’s rule. That’s right; he outlived the riot and his master King Galbatorix,” Brom said and smirked almost secretively. “And I’m betting that none of you know how he died.”

The class fell silent. Though Saphira and Eragon knew, they weren’t about to raise their hand and say it.

“He was murdered in cold blood by his own son,” if possible, the room seemed to fall into an even deeper silence when Brom paused. “The boy was nine at the time, but that didn’t stop hinder him in any way. To further explain this, I’ll show you just how powerful Morzan was.”

The screen shifted again and a family tree was shown on the screen. On top was a name that Eragon had only heard of in legends and myths.

“Morzan is said to be a descendant of Elizabeth Bathory and one of her many lovers. It is said, and later proved, that Morzan was a descendant of one of her unknown number of bastard children back in the 1600s, one of the few that made it out of her castle alive,” Brom paused to let out a low and rumbling chuckle. “I’m sure you’ve all heard of Bathory. She became so terrified of aging that she started to bathe in young women’s blood, and a few accounts back in the day said that she even bit a few of her victims. On account of Morzan’s long career of sadism it is no wonder that historians believe him to come from the woman that brutally murdered six hundred girls just to stay young.”

Eragon couldn’t help but to laugh at the guys that looked fascinated and horrified at the same time. Most of the girls just looked grossed out. And Eragon couldn’t blame them. If he was to take a side, he’d take theirs.

“While it has never been proved that Bathory was a vampire, Morzan was one without a doubt. He was responsible for a lot of the deaths during the riot, as well over a two hundred more that had no link to the riot whatsoever,” the professor said and changed the page on the screen again. “Morzan never found his mate while he lived, though scholars have debated and, if I’m not mistaken, still debate on this issue. The main reason being that he was murdered by a nine year old without causing any harm on his attacker. And believe me, had Morzan had the chance, he would have hurt, if not killed the boy. A vampire has no real bond with their children unless they come from their mate.”

Brom leant onto his desk and looked at his students.

“Strange creatures, vampires,” he murmured almost to himself. “But back to this infamous debate! As I’ve already told you, a mate is a vampire’s everything once they’ve managed to find them. People say that Morzan found his mate but was unable to claim them, or perhaps he had no idea who it was. Because, believe me, he drained enough people a month to confuse the most organized of minds. For, let’s say that a vampire has found and taken a little sip out of their mate. What happens?”

Brom paused, almost as if he was waiting for someone to speak up. His eyes flickered over Saphira and Eragon for a moment before focusing back on the student body.

“What happens, kids, is that a vampire can no longer drink blood that comes from someone other than their mate. If they try to, they’ll either get sick or go mad.”

The grey eyed man folded his hand over the one holding the remote and smirked.

“And I suppose you’ve all been taking notes?” he said with his usual humour.

Suddenly, several pens could be heard scarping against paper. Eragon and Saphira, who had already heard half of the lecture before, started to write down what was new.

“Now, since Morzan didn’t fight back, scholars are saying that he didn’t have the strength to. This could be true, but as a teacher I’m supposed to stay objective, so I’ve refrained from taking a side. This is just old man’s talk, kids; it’s nothing for you to worry about. Just think to yourself; _ding dong, the vamp is dead!_ ”

A few students laughed quietly at Brom’s words. Eragon felt a half-smile enter his face.

“Sir! You haven’t said anything about Morzan’s son,” a girl a few rows down piped up almost meekly.

Eragon could only imagine why. Morzan had been, despite his vampire genes and sadistic side, a handsome man. Eragon assumed that the student believed that his son had turned out just as good looking.

Brom suddenly looked thoughtful. He pressed the button and sat down onto the desk. He crossed his arms, his eyes never leaving the student before he started to speak.

“No one knows his name, actually. He disappeared off the radar shortly after he killed his father. He took his inheritance and left,” Brom said. “He is rumoured to have been born in the spring sometime, but no one knows this for sure. Those who have actually seen the child can only remember curly dark hair and cold eyes that looked just like his father’s. His mother was killed by Morzan shortly after his birth. Morzan wanted the child to grow up to be a killing machine, and the mother wasn’t his mate, so she was no longer needed. And I would say he succeeded in his mission. Wherever Morzan’s son has been rumoured to have been, he’s only left bodies and terrified people behind. Historians are actually afraid that he’ll live up to his father’s name, and perhaps one day even surpass him.”

Eragon felt a shudder run through him. He wasn’t sure why, but he didn’t like it.

“He allowed no pictures or paintings to be made of him, and those that later tried have only been able to create a picture of a stoic looking child with too indistinct features to help identify him in the present. He should be, is he still alive, in his early to mid-twenties,” Brom paused to send a warning look to his students. “If you hear whispers of Morzan’s son, then you get away immediately. Most likely he is as handsome as his father and he probably uses that to his advantage. Do not let yourself enter a situation where you’re unsure about the other person’s lineage. It could be a fatal mistake on your part.”

Eragon could almost hear the students gulp at the warning. Suddenly he wished he could gulp with them. But sadly, all he could do was to clench Saphira’s hand, which had somehow sought out his, and feel her return the gesture.

“Class dismissed,” Brom barked and then let out a barely audible sigh. “If you have any questions, ask me after Monday’s lecture.”

The students almost unwillingly left the room. Saphira and Eragon packed up slowly and didn’t walk over to the teacher’s desk until they were the only ones left. As Eragon stepped even closer to his mentor, another shudder ran through him. He could bet that the night wouldn’t be a pleasant one for anyone.

“Let’s go,” Brom said gruffly. “I’m driving.”

**::OBSESSION::**

Aksel looked slightly uncomfortable where he stood beside Saphira. Brom had a rather large house for living alone, and they had been given two guestrooms that they were going to stay in during the weekend. Eragon was not surprised when he heard that he and Aksel were still going to share a room. The blond on the other hand, while not looking disturbed by the thought, hadn’t made a joke about it either. Aksel clearly didn’t feel comfortable.

“Aksel, are you okay?”

The blond seemed to get startled out of his own thoughts.

“Huh?” he asked and shifted his gaze away from the wall he had been staring at for the past half hour.

“I asked you if you were okay,” Saphira said softly.

Aksel ran a hand through his dishevelled hair.

“Uh, yeah. Just a little caught up in my own thoughts,” he said sheepishly.

“Be careful so you don’t hurt yourself now,” Eragon commented teasingly.

Aksel just gave a half-smile.

“Alright, that’s it! What’s wrong?” Saphira nearly barked, her mood changing from motherly to suspicious in an instant.

The elf jumped back and somehow tripped over something until he lay flat onto the bed he was going to sleep in that night.

“Nothing, I swear!” Aksel piped up and pushed himself up by his elbows.

“Bullshit,” Saphira said and scowled. “Now you tell us what’s going on.”

Eragon gulped at the hydra’s angry stance and looks. He soundlessly sneaked over to his own bed and sat down. He had never seen Saphira so angry before.

“I...” Aksel trailed off. “You know how Arya was joking about my mom not being completely human? Well, I asked her. She’s actually one-fourth elfish. And recently, for some fucked up reason, I’ve been feeling a lot more ‘in tune with nature’ as my mom calls it. And it’s fucking up my senses!”

Eragon frowned and saw Saphira do the same. The blue haired girl sat down beside Aksel and laid a hand on his shoulder. Eragon padded over and sat down beside them.

“What’s wrong with them?” the hydra asked softly.

“I dunno,” Aksel said in a frustrated tone. “They’re just...all over the place! It’s like I’m on high alert!!”

“There is a very easy explanation for that.”

The trio jumped almost in tandem. Brom chuckled softly and sat down on Eragon’s currently unoccupied bed.

“You have elf blood from both sides of your family, you said?” Brom asked and continued without waiting for an answer. “You’re starting to reach manhood. You’ll be turning twenty-one next year, correct?”

“Yes, sir,” Aksel replied and seemed to almost sit straighter due to the older man’s presence.

“You’re just an early developer. Rely on your senses to be pretty ‘fucked up’ for a while. But you can use this to your advantage, boy. You can sense enemies or threats much more easily now, or, if you want to, give us a perfect weather cast for tomorrow.”

The blond blushed slightly.

“I wouldn’t know how to, sir,” he protested.

“Pish pash,” Brom said and snorted. “You’ll learn it soon enough. It comes naturally, so to speak. If not, then talk to your sister. She’ll know what’s going on.”

“Thank you, sir,” Aksel said and gave another half-smile.

“Now, let’s get to business,” Brom said and clapped his hands. “I chose this room for you boys for a reason. It has no windows and is as close to the centre of the house as we can get. I want you two in here by midnight, and you elf, you’re going to look after Eragon as if you were getting paid to do it.”

Aksel nodded sharply.

“Saphira, if you’re still awake, then you can stay here until 1 a.m. strikes. But you aren’t to leave this room until then,” Brom said and focused his attention on the only female in the room. “If you sense anything, shout out.”

“Will do, sir,” Saphira said and pursed her lips.

“Eragon.”

The brunet looked up. He huddled deeper into his hoodie and met his teacher’s eyes.

“Yes?” he replied meekly.

“Are you alright there, boy?” Brom asked with a slight furrow on his forehead.

“I’m just a bit cold, that’s all,” Eragon said and shrugged. “It’s no big deal.”

Brom frowned.

“How long have you been feeling cold?” he asked almost sharply.

“Umm...on and off since Saturday. Why?” the brown eyed teen asked and bit his lip.

Brom’s frown, if possible, deepened. The older man mumbled something under his breath and glared at the floor.

“Why didn’t you tell me sooner?” he asked gruffly.

“I didn’t think it mattered,” Eragon replied honestly.

He was just feeling cold. He hadn’t even remembered it until Brom had come into the room again, shifting his focus from Aksel and onto his teacher. It was really no big deal. He had always been very sensitive to the weather and easily got cold.

The older man ran a hand through his short hair. He grumbled something else under his breath and scowled.

“Tomorrow, we’re going to do a few tests and get to the bottom of this,” Brom said and started to walk out of the room.

“Get to the bottom of what?” Eragon piped up.

“Nothing too serious, I hope,” Brom said, his gaze flickering between Eragon and Saphira as he spoke.

“Sir?” Saphira called out, but Brom had already left the room.

“Dude, are you sure he’s not a magician in disguise? He’s crazy enough to be one,” Aksel whispered to the brunet.

Eragon snorted.

“Yeah, I’m pretty sure,” he replied.

“Ah, alright then. Cos I could have sworn he was staring at your stomach for a second there,” Aksel said and stretched his arms over his head.

Eragon, who had been in the process of getting up, tripped over thin air and fell onto the floor.

“WHAT?!” he squeaked.

“Oy, are you alright?” the blond elf said and helped him get back up. “I didn’t mean to startle you.”

“Don’t joke like that, Aksel!” Eragon hissed. “I’m a bit on edge right now, okay?”

“Okay, no jokes,” Aksel said and held up his hands in surrender.

Saphira watched the two of them interact with unblinking eyes. Eragon frowned when he noticed her pupils.

“Saph?” he called out.

“Oh, it’s nothing,” she said and shook her head, her eyes going back to normal. “For a second there I thought...never mind.”

Eragon shook his head and started to mumble about the less than sane state of his friends.

Saphira just giggled while Aksel loudly asked what he had done this time. Eragon ignored them both and sat down on his bed, his back resting against the wall. He watched as Saphira pulled a deck of cards out of seemingly thin air and started to con Aksel into playing. The elf was reluctant for one second before he eagerly dived into the game.

The brunet watched them for a moment, a hand rubbing unconsciously against his stomach. There seemed to be nothing wrong with it. Aksel had to be joking around again. Eragon pulled up the arms on his sweater and sat down beside his friends, willing to participate in a new game.

**::OBSESSION::**

Somewhere a clock struck midnight. A figure, no longer asleep like he had been a second before, sat up and yelled out in pain. Another figure, a larger one, ran into the room and was instantly by the other’s side. But the first male only continued to scream.

Above them, the moon was revealed through the heavy clouds. It shone almost red. Then it was covered again. When the new cloud passed, the moon was once again a pale yellow.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> *Elizabeth Bathory is a real person that has been rumoured to have been the first female vampire. I only made up the facts about her bastard children and lovers, the rest is presented just as I found it online. I can't remember the site I used, but you can easily google her up and check for yourself.
> 
>  **Andelan Vocabulary** :  
>  _Morthor_ – A swear word. Means “fuck”  
>  _Andelan_ – A language that is also called “Old Tongue”. It’s the language that Alagaësia and Surda spoke in the old days. The language is now primarily used by vampires, elves and werewolves, since they are more in touch with the old times. However, magicians use it also to create spells and control magic, much like “The Ancient Language” in CP’s original books. But Andelan is a language that you can use without having magic go wild; like a branch flying through a person just because you said that word. Magicians have created a way to pull magic out of the nature by using the words, but they and the elves are the only ones that know how.  
>  _Morthric_ – A form of the word morthor. Means “fucker”  
>  _Ghalack_ – A swear word. Means “bastard”  
>  _Ghalacken_ – A form of the word ghalack. Means “bastards”  
>  _Ilx_ – A swear word. Means “shit” or “damn”


	2. Troubles Ahead

**Notes for the Chapter:**

>  **Disclaimer:** The lyrics provided by Aksel later on in the story are from "The Night" by Disturbed.
> 
> First of all, I have to apologise for taking so long with uploading my stories here. There are more complete versions out there, on FFnet, but because of RL things I rarely have the time to upload. I can't promise that I'll be faster with uploads, but I am going to try.
> 
> Second of all; please do remember to read the tags and my notes. That is where you get vocabulary facts and other info about this universe.
> 
> Thank you all for your patience and all the lovely comments. You guys are awesome. I hope the rest of the story will be to your liking. 
> 
> _**Word**_  – word written in my language _Andelan_.
> 
>  _-Speech.-_ Eragon/Saphira, Murtagh/Thorn and Thorn/Saphira talking to each other mentally.

_::April::_

When Eragon woke up he felt groggy, but that was not a new feeling. It was when he didn’t wake up and felt groggy that he knew the night had been a bad one. But the morning still felt a little out of place.

Eragon sat up and frowned when he didn’t recognize his surroundings. And his arm was tingling painfully, but he knew that was because he had slept on it. He brushed the hair out of his eyes and sat up. Or rather, he tried to. He nearly fell out of the bed when two arms tightened around his waist and pulled him back down. Without meaning to, he let out a loud yelp.

Saphira shot up from the neighbour bed and was by his side instantly. She didn’t even open her eyes before she was by the bed. But what she did next surprised him. Saphira was barely able to smother an amused snort before she started to laugh loudly. It was then the owner of the arms around Eragon started to wake up.

“Nuh? Who’s there?”

Saphira giggled loudly into her hands and seemed to be unable to stand up straight.

“Oh my God, you guys look so cute!” she practically squealed before she started to laugh again.

Eragon felt realization hit him. He shoved his elbow into the stomach behind him and scrambled out of the bed.

“Aksel, you idiot!” he yelled and smoothed down his t-shirt as he glared at the groggy blond in his bed.

“What now?” Aksel asked in-between yawns.

“How the fuck did you end up in my bed, huh?” Eragon snapped.

“Saphira fell asleep in mine, don’t you remember? And since we were both dead tired, we just crashed in yours,” the blond explained and ran a hand through his sleep-mussed hair.

“Oh,” Eragon muttered.

His memory had proven to be rather crappy lately. He needed to do something about that.

“Oh, I should so have taken a picture of you two!” Saphira gushed. “You looked so adorable!”

“Guys aren’t meant to be adorable, Saph,” Aksel commented and got out of the bed with much more grace than Eragon was able to do while fully awake.

“That might be right about you,” she replied with a smirk.

“Oy!”

“What’s going on?” Brom barked from the door way.

The three teens turned to face him, sheepish looks on their faces.

“Aksel and Eragon were just being cute,” Saphira said and smiled. “But we’re all up now, sir.”

Brom grumbled under his breath. He didn’t look more awake than the two boys.

“Alright, since we’re all up, let’s get this show on the road,” Brom sighed. “Saphira, you’re coming with me. You two...make some lunch. But burn down my kitchen and you die.”

Aksel gulped. Saphira just giggled as she followed the older man out of the room and waved as she left.

“...You know how to cook, right?” Aksel asked meekly. “I’d rather not die.”

Eragon rolled his eyes. He quickly found some clothes and walked out of the room to change.

“Hey!” the blond called after him.

“Just change, Aksel! I’ll fix the rest,” he called back.

Really, it was too early in the morning to have to deal with all of this.

**::OBSESSION::**

“Sir, what are we doing here?” Saphira said as she buried herself deeper into her jacket.

Brom however was too busy grumbling to himself, mostly in _Andelan_. He was mumbling too quickly for Saphira to catch every word he was saying. After hearing a couple of well-chosen swear-phrases, she figured he was still grumbling over Eragon’s situation.

Saphira sighed quietly and proceeded to look around in the mall. Brom had driven them to the shopping centre in the other end of town. Saphira had an inkling that he wanted to minimize the chances of being recognized, but why Brom was being so cautious was still a little unclear to her.

“Sir?”

“Hmm, did you say something?” Brom said and managed to finally tear himself out of his thoughts.

“Why are we here?” Saphira asked again.

“To help Eragon, of course,” Brom said and buried his nose into a list he must have written the night before.

“But why here?” the blue haired girl wanted to know.

“I have friends here,” Brom explained; his eyes twinkling slightly as he suddenly sidestepped into a shop.

Saphira stared after him. She hadn’t even been aware of the shop until Brom had walked into it. And once she saw what it was, she wondered what the older man could possibly want inside of it.

“Did you get it?” Brom just finished saying when Saphira walked inside.

Behind the counter stood a strawberry blonde young woman. Her bracelets twinkled in the light as she moved.

“Of course,” she replied with a small smile. “Anything for a dear friend.”

Saphira watched as the other woman handed Brom a paper bag and put something else into it with a wink.

“Let me know if there’s anything else the young boy might need,” she said and waved Brom off.

The older man chuckled slightly and began to walk back out of the store. The clerk then noticed Saphira. She gave her a respectful nod. Saphira blinked in surprise. For some reason, she just knew that this woman knew that she was a hydra. The blue haired girl returned the gesture before leaving the shop.

“What did you get?” she asked as she caught up with Brom.

“Hmm? Oh, just something I hope we won’t need. Or heads will roll,” he replied with a barely audible dark undertone.

Saphira frowned. For some reason, that phrase worried her more than she suspected it should have.

**::OBSESSION::**

Eragon watched Aksel hum as the blond stared out of the window. His right leg was bouncing up and down in a nervous manner.

“Are you okay?” Eragon asked as he continued to pull out the necessary dishes for their early lunch.

Aksel stopped humming to let out a questioning sound. Then he continued to hum once again, this time starting to move his body to some music only he could hear. Even his leg had started to bounce in another tempo.

“You’re humming,” Eragon stated dryly as he started to set the table.

“It keeps me calm,” Aksel piped up before he continued his humming.

Eragon watched in morbid fascination as the other started to practically dance in his seat.

“What the hell are you humming to?” the brunet asked. “And it better not be perverted.”

“It’s not,” the blond replied. “ _Give into the night!_ ”

Eragon blinked. _What the fuck?_

“Aksel?”

“Oh, sorry,” Aksel said and pushed himself to his feet. “This song just always makes me wanna dance.”

“What song?” Eragon asked and watched his friend with suspicion.

“The Night!” Aksel exclaimed. “Haven’t you heard it? _There can be no better way of knowing, in a world beyond controlling. Are you going to deny the saviour, in front of your eyes? Stare into the night!_ ”

“Um, no,” Eragon replied as he blinked in shock. “Can’t say I have.”

“Should have figured. The band might be a bit too dark for ya,” Aksel said and sighed.

“...Then why are you bouncing around to it?” the brunet said and continued to set the table.

“Cos the music is so easy to bounce around to!” the green eyed male replied excitedly. “When I think about it, mostly dark creatures listen to them, I think. The band isn’t exactly a hundred percent human.”

Eragon shook his head. What bands had only human members these days?

“Whatever, weirdo,” he muttered.

But Aksel just carried on half dancing half bouncing around in the room. Eragon ran a hand over his face and tried to kill the will to slap Aksel for just being annoying.

“We’re back!”

Eragon leaned onto the table and breathed out in relief.

“We’re in the kitchen,” he called back.

He heard Saphira and Brom walk across the floor and smiled when he saw his best friend enter the room.

“You kid, stop that immediately!” Brom barked as he stepped over the threshold.

Aksel stopped mid-motion. A second later his arm had snapped up, his back had straightened and he almost looked like a solider where he stood saluting the older man. Eragon sniggered quietly.

“Haven’t your mother taught you anything?” Brom snapped. “No dancing and humming when you’re maturing.”

“Why?” Saphira asked.

“You don’t want to know,” Brom said and sat down to eat almost as if nothing strange had just happened.

“Sorry,” Aksel said and rubbed the back of his neck sheepishly.

They all started to eat in silence. Eragon couldn’t help but to notice that Brom had a small bag at his feet. He wondered what was in it, and at the same time, dreaded to know.

“Eragon, the bag isn’t going anywhere,” Brom said amusedly. “You can stop staring at it.”

Eragon felt a hot blush enter his cheeks.

“Besides, this will be in your hands in a few minutes.”

Oh yeah, Eragon was definitely dreading to know the content of that bag.

They finished eating, and Saphira gathered the dishes before anyone else could. But considering the people she had eaten with, Eragon figured she had known no one else would jump up to do it anytime soon.

“Now, I ask you not to panic at what I’m giving to you,” Brom said in a quiet voice.

Eragon gulped. He really wished Brom had formulated that sentence better. Now he knew he was going to panic.

“Just follow the instructions, and you should get an accurate result,” the older man said; his lips pursed slightly in what Eragon could only guess to be embarrassment.

Eragon accepted the bag and peeked inside. All he could see was a new change of clothes and a book. But under the clothes he could see something peeking out.

“Go into the bathroom and come out once you’ve...done it.”

Eragon blushed. By the way Brom was talking; he almost thought he had to give a sperm sample or something! The brunet clenched the bag tighter in his hand and quietly walked into the bathroom. He locked the door for good measure. Then he proceeded to empty the bag. He placed the clothes on top of the toilet and took out the book. It was wrapped, and the only way he knew it was a book was from the shape of the packaging. Eragon shrugged and reached into the bag for the final item.

The small package fell from his hand and he stepped back in shock, his eyes never leaving the thin object. There was no way Brom could have bought that!! In his haste to get away from the object, he crashed into the sink and a pained gasp left him.

“Eragon?!” Saphira asked worriedly.

“I’m fine,” he called back in a strained voice. “But I’m not doing it!”

He knew what you did with those things. There was no fucking way he was doing **that**!

“Son, you have to. It’s for your own good.”

“Yeah, like I believe that!” Eragon exclaimed hysterically.

“Eragon, it’s the only way we can tell,” Brom said through the door.

Eragon bit his lip. His eyes hadn’t left the small object even while he had talked to the others.

“Eragon, please,” Saphira begged.

The brunet gulped. Slowly he stepped away from the sink. He hesitantly bent down and picked the object up. He stared at it and just knew he was as white as a sheet. He gulped again.

“Oh, why me?” he whispered.

A minute later he was horribly embarrassed and his cheeks were aflame. Eragon had changed per Brom’s request, and was now just waiting for the next two minutes to pass. One minute later he was going crazy. Every breath he took was choking him. And ten seconds later he had opened the door and run outside.

“I can’t do it. I can’t wait,” Eragon breathed hysterically and buried his face into a couch cushion.

Aksel surprisingly enough sat down next to him and laid a comforting hand on his shoulder. Saphira padded into the bathroom and came out with something in her hand. Eragon buried his face deeper into the material and willed himself to wake up. He had to be dreaming, he just had to!

“What’s the result?” Brom asked in a distinctly choked voice.

When Saphira failed to reply, Eragon slowly looked up. Her face was white and her eyes were shielded by her hair. Aksel’s grip tightened and Eragon could hear him start to mutter that he had only been joking, that he had never meant any harm. Brom’s hands, which had been clenched into fists, turned white around the knuckles. Saphira’s hand around the test tightened and she opened her mouth.

“...It’s negative.”

**::OBSESSION::**

Murtagh was not happy. Granted, when was he? But that day he was in an unusually dark mood, and he could tell that it wasn’t making Thorn any less annoyed with him.

“They haven’t completely shunned you. You should seek some counselling,” Thorn said gruffly.

Murtagh just sneered in answer. Going back to those old geezers was the last thing he wanted to do. The vampires, like all creatures, had a sort of hierarchy. They had a council which consisted of the oldest living vampires at that time. They were never replaced unless one of them died or was killed. And to top it all off, their rules totally clashed with Murtagh’s. The reason most of them shunned him was that he had killed his own father, who had been a very high-ranked vampire himself. So Murtagh simply refused to have anything to do with them.

“Fine,” Thorn growled. “Then go to a magical clinic or something! You aren’t well.”

Murtagh’s sneer deepened.

“Really? I had no idea. What clued you in?” he spat.

Thorn’s glare intensified. He stalked over to his rider and stared down at him. Murtagh just lifted an eyebrow.

“Sometimes I just want to kill you.”

Murtagh laughed. He pushed himself up in the bed and smirked.

“By all means, go ahead.”

Thorn growled. He ran a frustrated hand through his hair and let out a sigh.

“I just had to get stuck with a suicidal bastard, didn’t I?” he muttered darkly.

Murtagh just chuckled amusedly. Thorn’s glare, if possible, darkened even more.

“Well, if you won’t go to a doctor, I’ll just have to bring one here,” he said in an annoyed voice.

“ _You wouldn’t dare_ ,” Murtagh spat angrily.

“Try me,” Thorn said and smirked. “No matter how much of an asshole you are, you’re still my rider, and by default I then care about you. Go to a doctor, or I’m bringing one here.”

Murtagh leaped to his feet and glared up at the red haired man. He ignored the pain that was shooting up his back and let his fangs grow.

“There is nothing wrong with me,” he said threateningly.

“Sure, cos you hurt on a daily basis,” Thorn drawled sarcastically.

“This has happened before. I just laid off AB-types back then. I must have bitten an AB by mistake,” Murtagh said darkly. “But I’m not seeing a doctor.”

Vampires, despite common belief, didn’t go for just any person. There were some blood-types they couldn’t drink or they would get sick. How sick varied from how much blood they had drunk to how much the blood-type would clash with their own.

“I don’t buy it,” Thorn stated dryly. “It hasn’t hurt this much before.”

“So what? Maybe I bit two AB’s then?”

“And you just felt it now?” Thorn laughed cruelly. “No way.”

Murtagh let out a deep growl. He wasn’t going to a doctor, and that was it. Too bad that Thorn was just as stubborn as he was.

“Don’t make me kill you,” the hazel eyed man hissed.

“How do you know my blood isn’t poisonous to you?” Thorn said amusedly and laughed. “Besides, who would you have to insult then? You need me, no matter how much you deny it.”

“You need me more than I need you,” Murtagh spat and turned away from the other.

That had been a low blow, and Murtagh knew it, but since when had he cared about someone else’s feelings?

“You keep telling yourself that,” Thorn said deadpanned. “Until you find your mate, and if you ever do, I’m the only one you have. There are more out there willing to accept me than you.”

Murtagh sneered. He crossed his arms over his bare chest and glared at the wall. If Thorn had been human, or another vampire for that matter, he wouldn’t have hesitated to kill him by now. But sadly, despite Thorn’s jibes, he wasn’t suicidal. He’d give himself a few more decades before he went crazy enough for that. Besides, it was such a hassle for a vampire to kill oneself. He’d have to find wannabe slayer and pray they hit right, which he was sure only happened once in a millennia, if that often. God only knew how dumb people had gotten during the last couple of hundred years.

“Good,” Murtagh said finally. “I like to be alone.”

He heard Thorn sigh heavily.

“By all means, don’t let me stop you.”

Murtagh listened to Thorn walk out of the room and slam the door shut. Murtagh rolled his eyes and sat back down onto the bed. His back protested as he did so. Really, it was killing him. Too bad he couldn’t kill it back.

**::OBSESSION::**

Eragon nearly sobbed in relief. He buried his face into his hands and felt laughter build up inside of him. Thank god, it was negative!

Brom let out a thoughtful sound. Eragon looked up, wondering why he wasn’t celebrating with them. Granted, Saphira still looked a little shocked, though relieved, and Aksel was dancing around in some sort of happiness, but at least they expressed relief.

“You should do another just to be sure,” Brom said and rubbed his chin.

“What? No!” Eragon exclaimed. “I’m not peeing on another stick!”

Aksel let out a semi-giggle. Eragon vowed to deal with him later.

“Eragon, we need to be sure that this is an accurate result. Pregnancy tests aren’t a hundred percent accurate.”

Eragon blushed slightly at the word. He realised then that no one had actually uttered the dreaded ‘p’ word before then.

“But, that was the only one in the bag, and -”

“I always come prepared,” the older man said and pulled out not one, but two more pregnancy tests out of his pocket.

Eragon paled. What on earth had he gotten two more for?!

“Go on,” Saphira said softly. “You want to be sure, right?”

The brunet frowned. Something was really off about Saphira. She had been acting weird since last night.

“...Alright,” he murmured softly. “But I don’t like this.”

“Do them both, son,” Brom said and handed over both of the packages.

Eragon just coughed awkwardly and half-ran into the bathroom again. He immerged a minute later and sat back down onto the couch. There was still no way he was going to read the results for himself.

Saphira walked into the bathroom once again and came out with two more sticks. Aksel looked at them in morbid fascination. Eragon just continued to stare pointedly away from the tests. Finally one minute and a half ticked by.

“Well?” Brom asked with a slight worry in his voice.

Saphira took a deep breath. She looked at the first test and her eyes widened. She hurriedly looked at the second and paled.

“I knew it,” she whispered.

“What?” Eragon choked out.

He really didn’t like the look on Saphira’s face.

“Positive. They’re both positive.”

It took Eragon a few seconds to process the words. A moment later he fell over in a dead-faint.

**::OBSESSION::**

When Eragon woke up he was sure it had all been a dream. But then he felt the soft throbbing in the back of his head and the worried looks on everyone’s faces. He looked into Saphira’s eyes for confirmation.

 _-I’m sorry,-_ she whispered softly.

“No...this can’t be happening,” Eragon’s voice was steadily rising in volume. “This can’t be happening!!”

“You need to calm down, son,” Brom said with a worried frown. “You shouldn’t get too upset.”

“Why the fuck not?!”

“Eragon!” Saphira scolded.

“While you’re just a week along, mixed creature pregnancies can be a bit tricky. This was one of the bumpy rides I was referring to,” Brom said and his frown deepened. “That **_bloyean_** is as good as dead.”

“Sir, let’s not get too hasty,” the blue haired girl protested.

“He dared to defile the boy I view as my surrogate son. He’s going down,” Brom growled.

“Aksel, what does **_bloyean_** mean?” Eragon asked quietly, feeling a little desperate to focus on anything other than the life that was growing inside of him.

Or, seeing as the other parent was a vampire, perhaps it was more appropriate to refer to it as the _non-life_ that was growing inside of him.

“Vampire,” Aksel answered lowly, his mouth stretched into a thin line.

Eragon winced. So much for keeping his mind off the matter.

“That vampire is a rider!” Saphira protested loudly, quickly bringing back the other two males into the conversation.

Brom paused. A look flashed in his eyes, but it passed too quickly for Eragon to make out what it had been.

“...A rider?” he asked lowly.

Saphira nodded sharply. Brom’s frown deepened. He started to mutter to himself and the three young adults watched him pace around in the room.

“Tell me more about him,” he demanded a few minutes later.

“Um, he was about twenty. Dark hair, light eyes, pale, about Aksel’s height...” Saphira explained, biting her lip in concentration. “And he had a fascination for black.”

Brom scowled. He stalked over to the fireplace in the room and stared out of the window beside it. He stood in silence for many minutes. Eragon tried to understand why Brom was so upset, but thinking those thoughts only made Eragon remind a night he so dearly wished he could remember. And at the same time the brunet tried to forget everything he had ever learned about vampires.

“Saphira, do you see that painting?” Brom asked, not looking away from the window as he pointed to the painting hanging beside his bookcase.

“Yes, sir,” Saphira replied.

“Does he remind you of the vampire?”

Eragon paled. He knew who was in that painting. Brom couldn’t possibly think that...

“Um...” Saphira bit her lip. “Maybe a little.”

“ ** _Anilx_** ,” the older man growled. “Did he tell you his name?”

“His dragon did,” Saphira said and paused. “But...I can’t remember it for some reason.”

“That would be the spell the other hydra put on you,” Brom said gruffly. “You don’t remember either, do you, Eragon?”

The older man had turned around by then. The brunet meekly shook his head in answer.

“If you find out what it is, let me know,” the older man said and crossed his arms. “It would help us.”

“How?” Saphira asked.

But Brom didn’t answer. Eragon stared down at his hands. They were shaking mildly. He clenched them into fists, and watched as they still continued to shake. When he sighed, it was shaky and told of his inner turmoil.

“Every weekend Eragon will sleep in my guestroom. And until the pregnancy is over, I would like you, Aksel, to sleep in Eragon’s room. Yes, that means moving in with Eragon and Saphira. Eragon can’t be alone under any circumstances. We’re going to get him through this unscratched.”

Eragon felt tears build up behind his eyes. He wasn’t sure if they were angry, sad or frustrated tears. He blocked out the rest of Brom’s speech. All he could hear was the life he knew fall to pieces around his ears.

**::OBSESSION::**

Thorn was frowning. Murtagh had been a real pain in the ass the past couple of weeks. Granted, Murtagh was never easy to be around, but lately he had been impossible to even be in the same room as! And Thorn had no idea what was wrong.

Thorn was sitting atop of the club he worked in. He knew that he would be easy to find there, be it by Murtagh or anyone else, but it was the first and the best place he could think of to go and think.

The hazel eyed man had bounced back just two days after he had woken up in pain. Thorn could clearly remember hearing his scream echo through their ‘home’. He had never felt such terror run through him. But thankfully Murtagh was back to normal. The vampire was horribly irritated when he was in pain. And the vampire had sworn of AB-type people. Thorn snorted. As if his troubles could be fixed so easily.

The red haired man looked down into the alley he had seen Murtagh’s then latest victim. He could remember everything as if it had been yesterday. He was sad he would never be able to see the blue haired hydra again. With the ‘relationship’ that was between their riders, they would never be able to pursuit a relationship of their own. And that was truly a shame. Thorn had never seen a more beautiful girl. Saphira had put every female he had ever seen, creature or no, to shame.

_-Thorn?-_

Thorn frowned. That wasn’t Murtagh’s voice and no one else but his rider should be able to contact him mentally. Or so he had believed.

 _-Who’s there?-_ he snapped back threateningly.

_-Oh good, it is you. Give me two minutes.-_

Thorn was thoroughly confused. He didn’t sit up, but he mentally prepared himself for whatever that was going to happen. Before he could reach out to ask who the other was, he heard someone approach. He sat up in a flash and turned around...and was confused once again.

“...What?” he whispered.

“Hey, Thorn,” Saphira spoke softly. “We need to talk.”

The red haired man frowned. Saphira felt sincere and non-threatening, but he knew better than to underestimate his opponents. Silently he nodded his head. Saphira smiled softly and slowly approached him. She sat down next to him and looked up at him. Thorn sighed and sat down as well.

“It was you who reached out to me then?”

Saphira nodded. She turned to face him more properly, a serious look on her face.

“I need to talk to you about your rider,” she said bluntly.

Thorn blinked in shock. He slowly crossed his arms over his upturned knees and stared deeply into her blue eyes.

“What about him?” he asked.

“What is his name? I know you put some sort of spell on me and Eragon to make us forget,” she said and frowned slightly.

“It was for your own good,” Thorn said and sighed.

“I need to know his name,” Saphira stressed.

“Why? I won’t allow you to come after him. Plenty of people are already,” Thorn said gruffly.

Saphira managed to look shocked and not at the same time.

“I won’t. But I need to know. Eragon...” her voice trailed off.

Thorn sat up straight. He looked down at Saphira with narrowed eyes.

“What about your rider?” he asked suspiciously.

“I...he...it doesn’t matter. I need to know his name, please.”

Thorn shook his head.

“I can’t tell you,” he said softly.

Saphira was beginning to look desperate.

“Fine. Will you be staying in Carvahall much longer?” she asked instead.

“I’m not sure,” Thorn answered honestly. “It all depends on his health. The moron managed to get himself hurt the other day.”

A small look of fear flashed through Saphira’s eyes. Thorn was instantly on high-alert.

“Why? What’s going on?”

“I can’t tell you,” Saphira said and got to her feet. “I need to go.”

“You’re staying here,” Thorn said and yanked her back down.

Saphira fell into his lap and Thorn circled his arms around her to prevent her from getting up. Their new position shrunk the distances between their faces drastically. Thorn could practically feel her breath on his lips. He forced himself to focus on the matter at hand.

“What is going on?” he asked again, more slowly this time.

Saphira bit her lip. She evaded her gaze and her shoulders slouched slightly. She was clearly hiding something.

“Something about my rider?” Thorn pressed on. “What did he do?”

“Besides scaring Eragon nearly to death!” Saphira exclaimed. “That bastard left Eragon a note. He fears for his life.”

Thorn cursed under his breath. He knew Murtagh had snuck out that night, but had just pushed it away. Obviously Murtagh had paid Eragon a little visit, that asshole.

“I didn’t know that,” the redhead said. “He hasn’t done that in a while. He prefer stalking over leaving creepy notes.”

Saphira let out a hysterical laugh.

“Not helping my own fear, you know,” she said humourlessly.

“But I know there’s something more you’re keeping from me,” Thorn said in a steadily deepening voice.

Saphira sighed. She looked caught between spilling and escaping.

“I need to know first, are you going to stick around for long?” she asked quietly.

“Doubtfully,” Thorn replied mournfully. “We’ll probably be gone within the next two or so weeks. We rarely stay at the same place for more than a month. Next stop is...who knows. The bastard is the one with the map. I’m only the tag-along.”

“What we don’t do for your riders, huh?” Saphira murmured softly.

Thorn laughed bitterly in agreement. Saphira answered with a sad smile.

“Well, I’m waiting,” Thorn said a second later, tightening the grip around the blue eyed girl’s waist just in case she tried to bolt.

“Eragon...is dealing with a few...consequences after the run-in with your rider,” she finally replied, though it was very hushed.

Thorn frowned. It took him a minute, but then it came to him. His eyes widened in shock.

“You fucker,” he growled at his rider, and almost wished Murtagh was there to hear it. “Tell me he isn’t.”

“Eragon is,” Saphira said sadly, her heart clearly breaking for her friend and rider.

Thorn continued to mutter curses under his breath. His grip around Saphira loosened, but before he could grab onto her again, he noticed that she hadn’t gotten off of him. She was gazing sadly down at him with understanding in her eyes.

“Has this...happened before?” she asked with a hint of desperation in her voice.

Thorn sighed tiredly. He crossed his arms over his chest and leaned forward. Saphira straightened up to allow the space between them to remain the same.

“Once or twice,” the redhead said finally. “But M...my rider always killed the mother before the child could be carried to term. He refuses to become who his father was.”

“His father -?”

“Yeah,” Thorn said and nodded grimly. “My rider is a product of a vampire and human coupling. He wasn’t happy when he found that out. While other vampires see him as a sort of purity -hell, they even offered him a future place in the council!- M...my rider has always hated himself for being who he is. It is not a nice thing to know that you’ve been bred.”

Saphira winced.

“But don’t worry, I won’t tell him that his late conquest is bearing fruit, so to speak,” Thorn said and gave her a slight smile. “I do feel for your rider, though. But with the proper environment, I’ve heard even vampires can be nurtured into kind creatures.”

Saphira smiled sadly. She got up and brushed dust off her pants. She looked down at Thorn with an almost heartbroken look.

“I know. But this is going to break Eragon. His mother died while giving birth to him and his father abandoned him a second later. He lost his father figure when he was just fifteen, and the only one he can look up to right now is one of our professors. He has no idea how to be a parent,” she paused and licked her lips. “But we’re going to help him get through it.”

“I’ll try to get my rider out of the city a little faster,” Thorn said and stood as well. “I’ll make sure he doesn’t find out.”

Saphira smiled sadly.

 _-Thank you, _-__ she whispered mentally before she turned around and left.

Thorn stared after her with a heavy mind. He couldn’t help but to laugh bitterly before he started to head back to his ‘home’.

“You’ve really done it this time, bastard,” he muttered into the fading day.

**::OBSESSION::**

Eragon had refused to come out of the room since he had heard the news. It was now Sunday, and it had been approximately twenty-four hours since he had heard the news. He was pregnant.

Eragon sat on his bed, his head buried in his knees. Aksel had, from what he had heard through the door, crashed in another bedroom. He had simply refused to let anyone inside. All he wanted was to be alone and to force himself awake. It just couldn’t be real. He couldn’t be pregnant! He just couldn’t be!!

Eragon hated his friends for having tricked him into going to that club. He hated the vampire for seducing him so easily. He hated himself for letting the vampire seduce him! He hated himself for having enjoyed that night in the alley. He hated the vampire for having knocked him up!!

The brunet sighed. He hadn’t been able to cry, and suspected he wouldn’t be able to either. All he could do was to hate. And how he hated.

In the back of his mind he knew he needed to go to school the next day, but at that moment school didn’t matter. Two missed classes wasn’t the end of the world. He could read those chapters later by himself.

Minutes passed with nothing going through his mind. Eragon uncurled one arm from around his knees and encircled his stomach. He lightly rubbed it. It didn’t feel different, but he knew that it would with time. It was still so surreal. There was something, a person, growing inside of him. And all Eragon could think about that was that he was giving birth to a dead creature, a vampire in its truest form; a **_bloyean_**.

A small tear slipped down his cheek. Eragon rubbed it away on his knees and tightened his grip on his sweater. Nothing seemed to make sense anymore.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> **Andelan Vocabulary:**  
>  _Andelan_ – A language that is also called “Old Tongue”.  
>  _Bloyean_ – The word for “vampire”  
>  _Anilx_ – A form of the word ilx. Basically means “damnit” or “goddamn”


	3. Disturbed

**Notes for the Chapter:**

>  _-Speech.-_ Eragon/Saphira, Murtagh/Thorn and Thorn/Saphira talking to each other mentally.

_::May to June::_

Monday morning dawned like it always had. A soft yellow, a louder orange and an almost angry red colour started to chase away the dark bluish black colour that was still left of the night. He hadn’t slept that night either.

He didn’t actually need to sleep. It was something he did when he was bored or when he, for once, felt tired enough. But he, even though he made sure not to let the hydra know, hadn’t been sleeping a lot lately. He rarely dreamed, and even more rarely had nightmares. But recently all that had crept up on him during the nights were nightmares. And he _hated_ it. Nightmares left him feeling weak, an emotion he hated with passion.

Murtagh sat on the roof of the building he and Thorn had resided in since coming to Carvahall. It was a rundown house that had seen better days. It was large enough to easily fit a family of six, but it was nothing like the house Murtagh had grown up in. But the vampire rarely thought of his childhood. He thought of it so little that all he could remember from it was killing his father and finding Thorn.

He had never quite understood why Thorn continued to stay with him. It was clear that they didn’t get along. While Murtagh knew of the bond he and Thorn had was because of Thorn’s transformation, it didn’t change anything. Murtagh knew he was as cruel in his adulthood as he had been when he was young. How Thorn had even been willing to trust him would forever stay a mystery.

“Up here again, Murtagh?”

The vampire sighed. He looked away from the sunset and down at the world below. Out of the corner of his eye he could see Thorn step forward.

“Why do you insist on asking pointless questions?” Murtagh drawled.

Thorn snorted. Murtagh turned around and opened his mouth to speak again, but paused. He narrowed his eyes and instantly was on alert. There was something different about the hydra, he could practically smell it.

“Who did you see?”

“What business is it to you? I made sure I wasn’t followed, if that’s what you’re worried about,” Thorn scowled.

“I know you better than that,” Murtagh said coldly. “But it is my business if you acted like a fool and tipped someone off that I’m here. You know very well the bounty that’s on my head.”

“Considering what you did, they should give you a medal and shake your hand,” the redhead said and crossed his arms.

“And then they’ll chop it off and kill me with it,” Murtagh stood up in a flash. “Who did you see?”

“Why don’t you guess?” Thorn took a step forward.

Murtagh felt the rage boil.

“You didn’t?! You are a fucking idiot!!” the hazel eyed man snarled.

“No, that’s what you are!” Thorn yelled. “She found me. And what the fuck are you doing, you absolute bastard? You’re scaring that kid half to death!!”

“That was my intention,” Murtagh said and smirked. “He’s such a lovely prey, I just couldn’t resist.”

“Murtagh, riders and hydras are rare enough as it is. Let this one go,” the redhead growled and took another step forward.

“Why? It’s not like your precious little lady will die if I kill her rider.”

“You may never have been forced to endure the loss of someone who’s truly close to you, but it hurts,” the hydra said icily. “It hurts even more if you’re a hydra. If you dare to step close to that boy again, I’ll kill you.”

“Well, fuck me,” Murtagh laughed sharply. “You’ve actually fallen for that girl.”

“She’s the only current female I’ve heard of that has found someone to transform for. If she passes, it won’t just be me who’ll be after your blood.”

“Oh, isn’t that ironic!” the vampire laughed. “But you aren’t the boss of me, Thorn. I slay those I see fit,” Murtagh said and glared.

Thorn leaped forward and tackled Murtagh to the ground. They skidded across of the dirty roof, clothes and skin ripping in the process. They skidded to a halt not far from the end of the roof. Thankfully the spot Murtagh had picked was flat. Had he been seated on the very top of the roof, they would have slipped and fallen down.

Thorn towered over the vampire and tightened his grip on Murtagh’s shirt. Then he slammed him down against the roof. Murtagh gasped in pain before letting out a string of amused laughter.

“You won’t go near Saphira or her rider,” Thorn said with murder in his voice. “If you dare to even try, I’ll send you bound, gagged and mortally wounded to the king myself.”

“Such hatred you have for me,” the dark haired man commented. “How did I ever win your trust?”

“I was young and you still had a small drop of kindness left in you,” Thorn answered nonchalantly. “I can’t say where it went off to, but I can say that you grew up to be just like your father; cold, heartless and a murderer to the core.”

Murtagh narrowed his eyes. That had been unwise of Thorn, and he knew the hydra knew it too. No one mentioned Murtagh’s father and left unscratched, if they left alive that was.

“Well, he did breed me to continue his legacy, now didn’t he? It would be such a shame to not fulfil the old man’s last wish,” the hazel eyed man finished with a roar and pushed the hydra off him.

Thorn landed a few feet away from him on his feet. Murtagh jumped up and glared darkly at him.

“Once you were better than this,” Thorn said coldly.

“Once I was a fool,” Murtagh snapped back.

Thorn glared coldly at him.

“But I’ve grown up. Life sucks, even for the immortal. Why not make the best of it?” Murtagh said, spread his arms and smirked.

“Promise me you won’t harm him,” Thorn said and glared.

Murtagh took a step back. He lifted his foot to take another, but it met nothing but air. He stopped mid-motion and smirked.

“I promise,” he whispered mockingly and disappeared over the edge.

**::OBSESSION::**

Thorn felt sick to his stomach. Whatever was about to happen, it couldn’t be good.

He had scarcely seen Murtagh for the past few days, and when he did the other was asleep. That was a rare enough occurrence in itself. He knew that Murtagh had been trying to hide that he hadn’t been sleeping, but Thorn knew the vampire better than that. And when Murtagh finally did sleep, he’d wake up screaming from an unseen nightmare. And now for the past forty-eight hours Murtagh had taken it upon himself to not return at all. At least that pattern Thorn knew well enough; Murtagh was getting ready to skip town. And there was nothing that made the hydra happier at that moment.

But despite all that, there was something distinctly different about Murtagh. He was still the same bastard, but there was something different about him nonetheless.

Thorn finished packing what little belongings they had and sat down on the old bed. Ever since Saphira had sought him out he had been keeping an eye on Murtagh from afar. Thanks to his dragon powers, he could easily sense where Murtagh was and who he was with. So far the vampire hadn’t gone near Eragon at all.

The floorboard creaked and startled Thorn out of his thoughts. He stood up to greet his rider. The second he stepped out of the bedroom, the scent of blood hit his nostrils. He wrinkled his nose and sighed. Being close a vampire had taught Thorn a lot of things, mostly about how fickle life really was.

The hazel eyed man stood by the sink and was calmly washing his hands. Thorn scowled when he saw how the water hit Murtagh’s skin and came back a soft red. He couldn’t see his rider’s face, but it was no doubt that Murtagh’s face would be smeared with blood too. Thorn frowned. It had been a while since Murtagh had been this careless. Indeed, something bad was about to happen.

“I know I’m hot, but do you need to stare a hole into my back?” Murtagh drawled as he continued to wash his hands.

“If I find you anything Murtagh, it’s disgusting,” Thorn growled and leaned onto the kitchen table.

Why Murtagh hadn’t moved to the bathroom to wash up was beyond him. Usually the vampire hid the obvious signs of his kills from Thorn, knowing how the redhead didn’t care too much for what he did on his spare time, but this time...

“Welcome to the club,” Murtagh growled. “Have you packed yet?”

“How long have we known each other, Murtagh?” Thorn snorted. “Yes, I have bloody well packed.”

Murtagh nodded, his back still facing Thorn. The hydra’s frown deepened. Was it just him or was Murtagh shaking a bit? He took a step to walk around the table, but a snarl stopped him.

“Don’t come any closer!”

Thorn glared. Murtagh’s hands were clenching the sides of the sink pretty tightly. He took another step forward, despite the further tensing of Murtagh’s form and the threatening growl that was sent his way.

“Is something wrong?” Thorn asked carefully.

“No, nothing is fucking wrong!” Murtagh snarled. “Get the hell away from me.”

“It isn’t the anniversary of your father’s death or your birthday. What the hell has gotten you this riled up?”

Murtagh’s shoulder continued to shake as he cupped some water into his hands and splashed his face. Thorn stepped closer as the vampire cleansed himself. Murtagh turned off the water and ran a hand through his hair. When Thorn came to a stop beside him, Murtagh turned his face away.

The redhead growled and pulled the vampire to face him. He paused when he saw the marks on Murtagh’s face.

There were three tilted claw marks that ran over his eyes and down to his mouth. They were slowly healing, but still had an angry red colour. Murtagh’s eyes were the dark colour that Thorn had learned to associate with death. His lips were still slightly smeared with blood and when Murtagh snarled at him, he saw the residue blood on his teeth.

There were two shallow claw marks down the side of his neck and five on his right shoulder. Murtagh’s t-shirt was splattered in blood, but his own and his prey. The side of his left arm was pretty clawed up as well. Thorn cursed.

“Tell me you didn’t pick a fight with a werewolf,” the redhead said coldly.

Murtagh just smirked.

“He provoked me, I answered.”

Thorn snarled. Murtagh looked startled for a second before his cold mask was once again in place.

“How did this happen?” the hydra asked darkly.

“The idiot interrupted my dinner,” Murtagh said dryly. “Then he figured that he wanted to take me on. Fucking prick. If you think this is bad, you should see him.”

Thorn fought the urge to smack his rider.

“You arrogant fool!” he yelled instead. “You do realise that he’ll most likely tell the mayor that you’re here?! And you accuse me of blabbing?”

Thorn sneered. He stalked away from the vampire and into the bedroom. There he picked up their luggage and threw it onto the mattered couch inside the living room. Murtagh watched it all in silence.

“He won’t be telling anybody anytime soon,” the hazel eyed man drawled as he towelled himself off with some nearby paper towels.

“...You killed him?” Thorn asked in a deadly voice. “If you did, I swear to God, Murtagh -”

“Relax already,” Murtagh sighed. “I didn’t kill him. He’ll be discovered soon enough by some random passerby and be escorted to a hospital. I only knocked him out cold...after kicking his ass, of course.”

“You son of a -” the red eyed man forced himself to kill that sentence. “One of these days I’m going to kill you.”

“Like I said, go ahead!” Murtagh said and barked a laugh. “But let’s not get too carried away by this nostalgic chatting. I want us out of here within the hour.”

Thorn raised an eyebrow. He watched Murtagh rip his tee off his body and nearly swore at the bruises he saw there. While vampires healed unnaturally fast, a few wounds usually took a bit longer to heal. He didn’t even want to know how bad the marks on Murtagh’s shoulder had been, since they were still gaping and an angry red. They would be gone within a few days, leaving no trace of scarring behind. Sometimes he really envied his rider. But then he remembered the burden that came with being a vampire and the envy was quickly forgotten. He’d rather be disfigured and broken than to be a vampire and have to feed off of others to live.

“You’ve been very quiet lately,” Murtagh said absentmindedly as he started to bandage the worst of his wounds. “Not that I miss your chatter, but it does spike my curiosity. Don’t tell me you’re already missing your girlfriend?”

Thorn made sure to send an extra murderous glare at his rider. Murtagh just smirked in reply.

“I’ve been thinking.”

Murtagh barked a laugh. He smirked as he tied up the last bandage. Thorn would have helped him hadn’t be been so unbelievably angry at his rider.

“About what? The meaning of life? Is there really a God? Does love actually exist?” the dark haired man said sarcastically and heaved his bag onto his good shoulder.

“I know it does exist, unlike a certain someone,” Thorn said and picked up his bag as well. “I’ve been thinking about you, though I have no idea why.”

Murtagh snorted. He led the way out of the house and threw the garbage into a nearby dumpster. Then he proceeded to stuff his other hand into his pocket and walk calmly down the road.

“What about me then?” the rider drawled. “Where my _mysterious_ bastardism comes from?”

“No, I already know the answer to that question,” the red haired man said and rolled his eyes. “I’ve been wondering about your actions as of late. You haven’t been quite yourself.”

“How so?” Murtagh asked with an eyebrow crocked in obvious disbelief.

“You’re sleeping again, but you’re still refusing to do anything about your nightmares,” Thorn paused and his voice became bitter. “Not that that’s anything new. You’re leaving at odd times and you don’t tell me where you’re going. Usually you boast about who you’ve killed, no matter how much you know I hate to hear about it.”

“So what?” Murtagh drawled in a bored voice. “Do you want me to pick up the habit again? I’ll be more than willing to.”

“No thanks,” Thorn said bitterly. “But you are acting odd, Murtagh. If I didn’t know you better, I’d say that you were troubled.”

“Well, it’s good that you know me better than that, then.”

Thorn rolled his eyes. Ahead of them he could now see the train station. Ah, so that was how Murtagh planned to get them out of the city. He obviously wanted them out in a hurry. Thorn knew how much Murtagh hated mingling with other people. The hydra concluded that Murtagh hadn’t let him in on everything that had happened in that fight with the werewolf.

There was however one thing that was bugging him, and yet he didn’t want to ask the question. He was afraid of what might happen if it he did.

“Come on, ask me,” Murtagh said as he gazed up at the sky. “Ask me if I haven’t hurt the rider of your precious girl.”

Thorn scowled. Oh yes, there was something seriously off about his rider.

“I know you haven’t,” the redhead said and watched absentmindedly as people walked around on the station before them.

“Oh? Been keeping an eye on me, have you?” Murtagh asked with mockery in his voice. “I’m honoured that you trust me so.”

“I would have sensed if Saphira lost her rider. Hydras are emotional beings, remember? We can sense when there’s something wrong with each other, if we’re close enough,” Thorn snapped angrily. “I am however wondering why you’re simply walking away like this.”

There was no way Thorn was telling Murtagh that he had actually been keeping an eye on him.

“Oh, he had the wrong blood-type,” Murtagh said and smacked his lips. “I checked. Damn that brat. I was looking forward to killing him, too.”

Thorn snarled. His hand shot out and grabbed Murtagh’s throat in a choke hold. He lifted Murtagh into the air and moved his foot out of the way when Murtagh’s bag fell onto the ground.

Murtagh let out a string of amused laughter.

“Oh my, I’ve really done it this time. Are you going to kill me?” he asked and continued to laugh.

“No,” Thorn growled angrily. “But I’m very tempted. I told you to stay away from him, _Murtagh_.”

“And I did. I never approached him,” Murtagh smirked. “You never said anything about spying on him.”

“You sick freak,” Thorn spat.

“I can’t help it,” Murtagh said and grinned. “I was born this way, remember?”

Thorn let out a low growl.

“Tell me why you’re walking away,” he said darkly.

Murtagh sighed. Thorn tightened his grip and Murtagh let out a small choked sound. While vampires didn’t actually need to breathe, it still hurt to have your neck gripped tightly.

“Fine. **Fine**. Damn, you’re such a spoilsport,” Murtagh said moodily. “Let me down.”

Thorn released his grip and watched the vampire land on his feet. Murtagh leaned down and picked up his bag. Thorn shot a discreet look around the perimeter to make sure they hadn’t been spotted. Good, there was no one in sight. And the station was still too far away for the people there to see what they had been doing.

“I’m leaving, my dear old **friend** , because someone might be aware of my presence,” Murtagh replied calmly. “I thought he had died long ago...apparently I was wrong.”

“Who?” Thorn asked suspiciously.

“It doesn’t matter,” Murtagh said dismissively and began to walk towards the station again. “All that matters is that we need to get away before he finds me.”

“Why not kill him?” the redhead asked, wondering why Murtagh seemed almost afraid of this man, whoever he was.

“...It’s not worth the trouble,” Murtagh snapped. “Stop asking questions, already! You should be fucking skipping in glee that I’m leaving without putting your girl’s rider six feet under.”

Thorn just rolled his eyes and let Murtagh storm ahead of him. A minute later the frown was back on his face.

“Since when was someone not worth the trouble?” Thorn murmured to himself.

Something was seriously wrong. Never before had anyone not been worth the trouble of killing. Murtagh, as much as Thorn hated to admit it, loved to kill; he lived to kill. Whoever that knew Murtagh was in town was important in some way. And for some reason, admits all of his musings, Thorn suspected he hadn’t seen the last of Carvahall just yet.

**::OBSESSION::**

It had been a month. Eragon knew he should have been worrying about the upcoming exams, but he couldn’t. All he could worry about was the fact that it had been exactly one month since he had met the vampire.

For the past three weeks, he knew his friends had been worrying about him constantly. But he couldn’t help it. His appetite was waning, he was tired all the time and he felt colder than normal. Funnily enough, summer was approaching and still he was wearing baggy hoodies. But thankfully Eragon had yet to get sick. Saphira had forced him to read the pregnancy book Brom had bought him, and thanks to the male structure, most guys got sick easily when they were pregnant. It varied from small stomach aches to actually muscle cramps. So far he had not experienced any of the symptoms listed in the book.

“Alright class.”

Eragon jumped. He had been caught in his own thoughts and hadn’t even noticed the time fly by. He shook his head and directed his attention back to the teacher.

“Mythology exam is not like your everyday exam,” Brom continued. “In the first part of the exam you’ll be asked to determine the specie of two unknown people. You aren’t allowed ask the person before you what they are, but you’re allowed to observe them. The final part you’ll be asked to write the history of that specie and explain why you think the person before you is that specie. But there have been times when we’ve brought in humans and due to the recent failure rate at these times, I’ve been...asked to tell you what to do then.”

Eragon couldn’t help but to grin. He was sure Brom had been threatened rather than asked by the school board to tell the students just that.

“You’ll then have to write why the person before you is human and not, say...a werewolf. But you will also have to write the history of the humans. And that class, is just what our next lessons will be about,” the brown haired man said and chuckled.

“Sir, have you ever brought in a vampire?” a girl at the front of the class asked loudly.

Brom paused and pursed his lips. The class fell almost eerily silent.

“Once,” he answered finally. “It was a few years after the riot, and it has never been done again. Class dismissed.”

Eragon and Saphira waited for the rest of the class to leave the room before walking up to the teacher’s desk. Brom looked up as they came closer.

“Are you ready?”

The two teens nodded. Brom closed his bag and stalked out of the room, the two teens almost running to keep up with him.

“Sir, what -” Saphira breathed, but was interrupted.

“Not here,” Brom said and led them out of the building. “We’ll talk when we’re safely inside of my house. Where’s that elf of yours?”

“Um, Aksel didn’t have any classes today. You told him to meet us at the house when school was up,” Eragon replied.

Brom mumbled something under his breath and unlocked the car. Eragon and Saphira slipped into the back while the older man started the vehicle and drove out of the parking lot. The next few minutes were spent in silence. When they finally arrived at Brom’s house, Eragon breathed out in relief. He hated tense silences.

“The kid better not have broken anything,” Brom muttered darkly. “I should never have given him a key...”

Saphira giggled softly. Eragon just rolled his eyes.

“Yo, guys!” Aksel piped up eagerly as they stepped into the house. “I’ve been waiting for ya. And I didn’t touch anything...nada, zip, zilch! Promise!”

Brom just snorted in disbelief and stalked into the kitchen. Aksel gulped and sat down onto the couch gingerly. He almost jumped back up in fright when it creaked. Saphira let out another amused giggle. Eragon just sighed and sat down beside the blond, not caring that the couch creaked again. It was old after all.

“What have you been doing all day, Aksel?” Saphira asked softly and sat down beside Eragon.

“I’ve been at the market and around town a bit, listening in on the gossip and such,” Aksel said like it was a perfectly normal thing to do. “No word on any bloodsuckers still walking around here.”

“They don’t shout out their presence to the people either,” Eragon drawled and huddled himself deeper into the couch.

Suddenly it had gotten a little cold again, despite the people on either side of him. God, he hated the condition he was in.

“Nope, but no one has been found dead or has gone missing for the past three weeks. Whatever bloodsuckers used to hang out here has left,” Aksel said and shuddered. “Thank God.”

“I wouldn’t start thanking any Gods just yet, kid,” Brom said gruffly as he stepped back into the room with cup in his hands. “Today it’ll be one month since the...run-in with your vampire. If he’s due to show up, it’ll be tonight.”

Eragon shuddered. Saphira put an arm around him and started to rub his other arm while sending calming whispers through their mind link.

“I have tried to sense Thorn during the past week, but so far I haven’t been able to sense anything. If that bastard returns, then Thorn will as well. We never leave our riders behind, no matter what,” the blue eyed girl said quietly.

“Sir, has a dragon ever transformed for a vampire before?” Aksel asked in a curious voice.

“Just once before that we know for sure,” Brom replied in a blank voice. “And that was for Morzan.”

Saphira shuddered violently. Her gaze remained planted at the floor below her as she shuddered with disgust.

“Morzan must have been just a kid back then,” Brom said and sat down in front of the teenagers. “Otherwise no dragon would have even dared to step close to a vampire; they reek too much of death and despair. But as a child a vampire hasn’t gotten into the whole killing mode just yet. They’re more innocent until they hit the age of twelve.”

“But then the hormones set in, right?” Saphira piped up, finally looking away from the floor.

“Yes,” Brom nodded. “After that age they begin to crave blood more often. As infants or young children vampires don’t need blood more than once every other month, if that often. They’re very capable of eating like normal people; they just don’t find it as satisfying.”

“How can someone live like that?” the blue eyes girl whispered in a quiet and almost horrified voice.

“It’s all they know,” the older man replied with a tired sigh. “They can ask us the same; how we can live without drinking blood.”

Saphira bit her lip and looked away, her eyebrows furrowed in thought.

“But if you could Saphira, I’d like you to stay on alert. If you as much as suspect that you can sense the other hydra, you let me know immediately,” Brom said and scowled. “Time moves too fast these days.”

“Sir, how fast would you say it would take for the vampire to get sick if Eragon is his mate?” Saphira asked suddenly, a new light suddenly shining in her eyes.

Eragon, who had been quite comfortable in pretending not to hear the conversation going on around him, was now on alert. What had she just asked?!

“Very slowly, actually. Even if a vampire feeds off of one person a week, it will take at least a four people, or a month if you will, for him to really notice or be unable to deny it anymore,” Brom paused and he got a faraway look in his eyes. “At first it’ll be smaller pains, and then he’ll notice that the blood doesn’t taste like it’s supposed to. Then he’ll be in real agony. That is when he can’t deny it anymore. Just the taste of someone’s blood should be enough to make him sick at that point.”

Eragon gulped. He was beginning to feel sick.

“Usually a few vampires deny the pains or the stale taste and just continue to feed with new vigour, but that only causes the illness to progress faster,” the brown haired man sighed. “It’s impossible to tell just how many vampires have died because they kept on being in denial.”

“They aren’t very bright, are they?” Aksel commented while twiddling his thumbs.

“Oh, they are actually unusually bright, boy,” Brom said and let out a bark like laugh. “How else do you think they remain from getting caught? No, vampires are just very prideful creatures.”

“I got a question, sir,” Aksel paused. “Why do you think he’ll be coming back?”

“After a month the vampire usually feels something in his soul, something that’s calling out to him, so to speak,” Brom said with a frown. “That usually pulls them back to their mate, whether they know what the pull is or not. If Eragon is not his mate however, it’s likely that the vampire will come back to...well, you get the idea.”

“So it’s better to be safe than sorry. I talked to Thorn just the day after we found out that Eragon was expecting. He said that he would try to get his rider out of the city faster. They could be on the other side of the country for all we know. But they could just be in Therinsford. We can’t risk it,” Saphira said and shook her head.

Aksel just nodded.

“Eragon, are you okay?” Saphira asked suddenly, her voice tinted with worry.

Eragon looked up. He was feeling a bit sick. He shook his head and shakily stood up. By doing so, everything just suddenly started to spin and his stomach clenched painfully. He stormed over to the bathroom and only just made it to the toilet before he started to hurl. Saphira was quickly by his side, holding the hair out of his face and rubbing the small of his back comfortingly.

“Is that the first time he’s gotten sick?” Brom asked with worry plain in his voice.

“Yes, sir,” Aksel replied.

“It’s too early for it to be morning sickness,” Saphira said and held onto Eragon tighter as he doubled over again.

“Maybe not...or maybe he just got a little nauseous over the topic we were discussing,” Brom sighed. “When he’s done, get him to lie down.”

Eragon held onto the toilet bowl tighter as he retched anew. He sobbed quietly and cursed the tears that were falling from his eyes. Saphira whispered comforting words into his ear, but he heard none of it. He just wanted it all to go away.

**::OBSESSION::**

When Eragon woke up the clock had already struck ten p.m. He sat up and recognized the room as the one he had been spending every weekend in so far. He pulled away the comforter and got out of bed. He was a little surprised to find himself alone in the room, but he would be lying if he said he didn’t appreciate it.

Ever since that fateful day a month ago he had been unable to get any real privacy. There would always be someone else in the room with him, unless he was in the bathroom, of course. And it was a truly great feeling to finally be alone for a while, even if it was only for a minute or two more.

For once Eragon longed for a window he could look out of. The wall seemed too bare without one, and for some reason he wanted to look at the world outside. For the past few weeks he had been scared to look out in fear of finding a pair of cold eyes staring back at him. But at that moment Eragon found himself surprisingly calm.

“Ah, you’re awake.”

Eragon looked towards the doorway and smiled as Saphira stepped inside. She had pulled back her hair, allowing just a hint of her black tattoo to be visible on her shoulder.

“How do you feel?” she asked quietly.

“A bit better,” Eragon replied.

And that was the truth. Earlier, while the others had been discussing vampires, his stomach had been coiling upon itself. Now it seemed to have finally calmed down.

“Good,” Saphira murmured and sat down beside him. “You had us worried there for a while.”

“Hey, the sickness had to start sometime, right?” Eragon tried to joke.

A sharp glare from Saphira silenced him. Eragon looked down at his hands and sighed.

“How’re the others?” the brunet asked and started to prick at an old scar on the back of his hand.

“Well, Aksel’s beside himself in worry and Brom’s pacing a hole into the carpet while muttering curses to himself,” Saphira said brightly.

“...I’m not sure if you were joking or not, but...alright,” Eragon said sceptically.

“Come on, let’s get out of this dark room,” Saphira said and held out a hand for him to take. “I’m sure Brom’s dying to fuss over you.”

Eragon groaned in horror. Oh, he’d rather not have that happen. He valued his sanity, after all.

“’Agon!” Aksel exclaimed as the two stepped into the living room.

Eragon barely had time to open his mouth before the elf had sprinted across of the room and gathered him a tight hug.

“Damn, you scared me, mate,” Aksel murmured. “I’ve never seen anyone vomit like that, and I’ve seen a lot of drunk vomiting.”

“Too much information, Aksel,” Eragon croaked. “And could you let me go, please?”

“Ops,” the blond said sheepishly and let Eragon go.

Eragon gulped in precious gulps of air. Damn, Aksel sure knew how to hug someone.

“Aksel, you need to be careful! You don’t hug pregnant people to smithereens,” Saphira scolded.

The blond grinned sheepishly.

“You alright there, son?” Brom asked as he approached the teens.

“Yeah,” Eragon breathed. “I’m just trying to catch my breath.”

“I didn’t hug you that hard, mate,” Aksel said with a frown. “Right?”

“No, no,” the brunet answered. “But you know how easily tired I get after getting up.”

Saphira sighed. She put a hand on his shoulder and sent him a mental message.

_-But that doesn’t mean it scares us any less when things like that happen to you.-_

_-I know, I know,-_ Eragon replied grumpily. _-It’s not like I do it on purpose either.-_

“People aren’t feeling very included over here,” Aksel said dryly. “Not all of us can talk to each other telepathically, you know.”

Saphira let out a soft giggle.

“Sorry. It’s become a habit,” the brunet said sheepishly.

“But you aren’t feeling nauseous now?” Brom asked with narrowed eyes.

“No,” Eragon replied honestly. “It was gone when I woke up.”

Brom nodded to himself.

“Alright. But from now on I want you to relax when you come home from school, even if you have homework or things to study, I want you to rest for at least a half hour. Also, no strenuous activities of any kind,” the older man said sternly. “It seems like the pregnancy is already taking its toll on you.”

Eragon bushed. God, he was never going to get used to that word.

“Remember, I want the three of you in that room before midnight,” Brom said firmly.

“Why is that, sir?” Saphira asked. “I mean, I understand and yet...I don’t.”

“Midnight is when the full moon is on its highest, or at least, it is usually so. And the moon affects all creatures and humans. If anything is to happen to that vampire tonight, it will be then. Then I want you three to be as locked away as possible,” Brom said gruffly. “No **_bloyean_** is going to get to Eragon again, especially tonight.”

“Understood, sir,” the hydra said and nodded. “Should we perhaps go in already? It’s close to eleven.”

“Good idea, Saphira,” Brom said. “The sooner you get inside there, the better. I’ll be busy checking every door and window for a while, but scream if anything happens.”

Eragon watched his mentor walk away with a heavy heart. He couldn’t help but to feel that he was imposing. It seemed like there were still a few unhealed wounds from Brom’s past, and the brunet now knew that Brom had a history when it came to vampires. He really hoped he wasn’t being a burden.

“Oh, shush you,” Saphira scolded.

Eragon blinked. Had he accidentally transmitted that?”

“I don’t have to hear your thoughts to know what you’re thinking,” she said sternly. “Now, let’s get inside.”

Aksel closed the door behind them and locked it. Only they and Brom had the key, so they were safe...for now.

The brunet sat down onto his bed and bit his lip. Saphira sat down beside him and laid an arm around his shoulder. Aksel plumped down on Eragon’s other side and folded his hands in his lap.

“Do you think he’ll actually come for me?” Eragon asked meekly.

Saphira sighed softly.

“If Thorn doesn’t say anything and there are no rumours going around about you, then he shouldn’t,” she said quietly. “I really hope he won’t.”

“Same here,” Aksel breathed. “I’d hate to be the witness of that fight.”

“Fight?” Eragon frowned.

“I’d die before I let that man come close to you again,” Saphira said darkly. “No matter if I hurt Thorn by hurting **him** ; you mean more to me than anyone ever has. I’d rather kill that vampire than let him get within a hundred feet of you.”

“I heard that there hasn’t been a vampire vs. hydra fight in centuries. While it would be cool, I’d rather not watch that unfold,” Aksel said and twiddled his thumbs. “I’ve heard it can get ugly fast.”

“Are you kidding me?” Saphira asked. “If someone threatens our rider, hydras can get worse than werewolves protecting their pack. We kill and die for our riders.”

Eragon wished he had been born deaf. Hearing Saphira say something like that was scaring him. While it was nice to know that she cared that much, it scared and hurt him. He was scared that the day might actually come that she’d fight for him and hurt because of the pain he knew he would feel the day the fight would come.

“Oh, I’m sorry, Eragon,” the blue eyed girl murmured. “We’ll stop now. There’s no need to make the atmosphere darker.”

Eragon smiled weakly in gratitude.

“Why don’t we try to play a game instead?”

“Oh!” Aksel exclaimed eagerly. “Can we play strip poker?”

Two hands hit him at the same time. The blond whined in pain and pouted.

“I feel so loved,” he grumbled. “What was that for?”

“Oh, don’t ever change, Aksel,” Saphira said with a soft smile. “Humour may be just what we need right now.”

Aksel just blinked and shrugged. Eragon watched as Saphira pulled out a deck of cards from her bag and started to shuffle them. Aksel started to beg for a round of poker, but Saphira turned him down without blinking. Eragon bit his lip and shifted on the bed, moving so that they were now sitting in a circle. Saphira looked up and smiled.

“Please! Just one round, I beg you!” Aksel whined as Saphira stopped her shuffling.

“Fine,” she huffed. “But no funny business from you.”

Aksel drew a cross over his heart and grinned. Eragon rolled his eyes. He was willing to bet that the blond had crossed his fingers behind his back while he had done so.

It was at that moment that Eragon found himself immensely grateful for having the friends he had. Without them, he didn’t know how he would have survived the mess that he had gone through, and the mess he knew was ahead of him.

**::OBSESSION::**

Murtagh watched the moon slowly sink with a scowl on his lips. Another sleepless night had passed. He had fallen asleep yesterday, but had woken up just an hour later thanks to his oh-so wonderful nightmares. He cursed his father to the grave and back for creating him. If he hadn’t already been dead, then Murtagh knew he would have killed the man in a heartbeat. It didn’t matter if he died in the process, just as long as he took the bastard with him.

Murtagh looked into the alley he had just come from. A body lay behind; crumpled and broken on the ground. He sneered at it before walking briskly down the path. He needed to get away before anyone found the body. He might be cruel, but he wasn’t stupid.

The hazel eyed man ran a hand over his mouth and was pleased when he found no residue blood. In his mouth however...Murtagh licked his lips and swallowed. Well, there had been some left.

The vampire turned right and entered an alley ending in a dead end. He found a prostitute and a slightly obese man going at it. He sneered.

“If you don’t mind, I’d like to get past you,” Murtagh called out over the grunting.

The couple before him stopped. The man scowled and held the girl against him as she tried to squirm away.

“Oy, why don’t you mind your own business?” he snapped.

Murtagh snorted. He stepped closer, never allowing the moon light to fully shine on his face, only his eyes.

“And I said that I need to get past you,” Murtagh drawled. “So move.”

“To get where? This is a dead end,” the other man drawled back.

“Not to me, it isn’t,” Murtagh smirked and let the blackness take over his eyes.

The girl screamed. Damn, she was loud, Murtagh noted. This was why he stuck to males mostly. They didn’t make as much noise...usually. The man on the other hand froze in terror. Murtagh let his smirk grow, his fangs clearly visible even in the dark. Oh yes, they were terrified now.

“Let me pass and I won’t harm you,” Murtagh said silkily.

That was all they needed. The girl sprang out of the man’s loose hold and ran right past the vampire. The man on the other hand kept shivering. Murtagh rolled his eyes and began to walk forward.

“Stay away from me!” the man hollered.

Murtagh just snorted. He crouched and leaped over the man easily. Then he stopped. He looked over his shoulder and glared at the man that was staring at him in horror.

“Get lost, or you’ll lose more than just a lay tonight,” Murtagh growled.

A split second later the man had run out of the alley, screaming and trying to pull up his pants at the same time. Murtagh sighed tiredly when he heard the word ‘vampire’ coming from the man’s mouth. Ah well, they were leaving soon. Thorn was going to be pissed when he heard the rumours going, but Murtagh didn’t care. He had needed to past them, Thorn should be happy he had only scared them.

Murtagh climbed up the wall separating the alley from the one on the other side. He leaped down onto the other side and started to calmly walk away. If he started to run, people might get suspicious.

He finally found the rundown building they had been living in for the past three weeks. Murtagh sneered in distaste. But he knew it was necessary. His kind was hunted down and killed. And so he had to live where he knew no one would look for him. He pushed the door open and stepped inside.

“Get a move on! We’re leaving,” Murtagh barked.

“...Already?” Thorn called back, coming into view with two bags in his hands. “What did you do?”

“I scared a prostitute and her customer,” Murtagh replied and shrugged. “It’s not my fault they wouldn’t move.”

Thorn glared at him.

“Have you tried asking?”

“Yes,” Murtagh replied honestly. “They wouldn’t listen. So, when all else fails...”

Thorn shook his head in disgust. Murtagh just snorted and took his bag from the hydra. He slung it over his shoulder and walked out of the building. He heard Thorn mutter darkly as he caught up with him. Murtagh started to hum softly under his breath, enjoying the shocked look he got from Thorn by doing so.

“Where to this time?” the redhead asked. “I doubt there’s anywhere new for us to go anymore.”

Murtagh snorted.

“Why do you always refuse to tell me?” Thorn snarled.

“Because it’s better this way,” Murtagh said simply. “You’ll know when we step onto the train.”

“Going by train again? What, is the bus too good for you?” the redhead growled.

“No, but there are few buses travelling at this hour,” Murtagh drawled. “We’ll be taking the night train.”

“That only goes to Gil’ead and the nearby cities,” Thorn commented quietly. “Don’t tell me you’re going back to finish the job.”

Murtagh looked at the other. Thorn looked ready to hit him if he answered incorrectly. The vampire rolled his eyes.

“I’m not going back,” the hazel eyed man replied deadpanned. “I’d be signing my own death sentence if I did.”

“Oh yeah, that _guy_ of yours,” Thorn snorted. “Why did you think he knew you were there, anyway?”

Murtagh fell silent. He had been asking himself the same question. He hadn’t seen that man since he had been a kid. Then again, it was rare of him to visit the town he had grown up in. While he had been born in Urû’baen, his father had taken him to different cities while he was growing up. Carvahall had been the city he had spent most of his time in, though Murtagh had no idea why. That had also been the city his father had died in.

He shook himself out of his memories.

“Had I know, Thorn, I would have done something about it before I left,” Murtagh answered finally.

Thorn rolled his eyes and continued on in silence.

They arrived at the train station a few minutes later. Murtagh bought the tickets and flirted slightly with the girl selling them. She giggled and flirted back, not that Murtagh was interested. She was a bit too skinny for him.

Murtagh thanked her and left. Thorn just stared blankly at him and ripped one of the tickets out of Murtagh’s grasp. Murtagh sniggered.

“Why do you stay with me, Thorn?” Murtagh asked as they sat down in an empty wagon.

There were few taking that particular night train, and for that Murtagh was glad. He had no idea what had made him ask the question, but judging by the look on Thorn’s face, he wouldn’t let it slide even if Murtagh tried to brush it away.

“Now it’s you that’s asking the stupid questions,” the redhead replied dryly. “You’re my rider, end of story.”

“You could have stayed in Carvahall and gotten married to that gal of yours. Instead you’re travelling all over the country with me?”

“It was tempting to stay,” Thorn said sombrely. “But unless you do something I cannot forgive, you’re stuck with me. Someone has to make sure you don’t hurt yourself.”

Murtagh rolled his eyes.

“And I knew a boy once,” Thorn continued in a much quieter voice. “He was cruel yes, but he had a tiny heart that had been allowed to grow in his father’s absence. He took me in, helped me when I needed it. That’s the day I vowed to repay him, no matter how much of a bastard he was going to grow up to become.”

The train started to slowly roll out of the station. Ahead of them Murtagh could see that the other compartment was occupied by no more than five people. Behind them he couldn’t sense anyone else. He had indeed picked the right train and the right compartment.

“...That boy is gone,” Murtagh said coldly into the silence around them. “He died many years ago, and he isn’t coming back.”

Thorn just snorted. Murtagh raised an eyebrow in question.

“We’ll see about that,” was all Thorn replied.

Murtagh rolled his eyes and turned to look out of the window. Around them the endless fields just continued on. At least they were leaving for a place where there was a bit more to see.

Murtagh felt his eyes widen when his stomach suddenly began to protest. Thorn suddenly looked alarmed. Murtagh stood up calmly and walked past the other. He entered the tiny bathroom and closed the door. Then he promptly began to retch.

He heard Thorn knock on the door a second later, but he was too busy coughing up his last meal. If not he would have screamed for the other to leave him alone.

A few minutes later the retching finally stopped. Murtagh coughed and spat into the toilet. He sneered at the content before flushing it away. He dried himself off calmly and tried not to look at his reflection. Then he turned to the door and stepped outside. Thorn was waiting for him with a worried look on his face.

“...The rash is back,” Thorn commented as Murtagh shouldered past him to get back into his seat.

Murtagh sneered at the hydra. He stole a quick look into the window and scowled. Indeed, there was a slight rash around the corners of his mouth.

“Fuck,” he growled. “That’s my last magician, mark my words.”

Thorn just frowned at him.

“What?!” Murtagh snapped.

The rash would be gone in a few hours, but to Murtagh there seemed to be something else bothering Thorn.

“...Nothing,” Thorn said at last. “You wouldn’t believe me, anyway.”

Murtagh just sneered at him. He pulled up the collar of his sweater and buried his chin in it. God, he hated allergic reactions. Fucking magicians, he knew they didn’t even taste good. What the hell had he been thinking?


	4. Victim and Prey

_::June to July::_

Eragon was sure that death was kinder than what he was currently going through. Another month had passed, and he found himself biting his nails as he waited for his turn on the Mythology exam. Thanks to _the bastard_ he hadn’t been able to study as much as he would have liked to. The bastard was of course the shadow that he always felt behind him but could never see; the man that Eragon doubted would ever stop haunting his dreams. Because life was just **that** kind.

Saphira sat beside him, mentally comforting him. She had already been through her exam, and she had tried to assure him that it wasn’t that bad. Bullocks in Eragon’s eyes. Saphira was smart, he wasn’t!

“Stop beating yourself up,” Saphira hissed at him.

Once again Eragon wondered if she could read his mind. He sent her a sheepish grin and continued to twiddle his thumbs. He wanted to get it over with, already!

“Hey, what species did you get again?” Eragon asked quietly.

They were seated inside a room that was filled with nail-biting students that kept flipping through their books. Eragon had given up on reading ages ago. Half of the class had already finished the test and sat in another corner, talking or bitching about the exam among themselves. Eragon was glad he had been able to fully block them out, or he would have been even more nervous.

“A human and a magician,” Saphira snorted. “As if you can’t see the difference between them.”

Eragon just laughed awkwardly.

“Hey, you’re going to do great,” the blue eyed girl said and gave him an encouraging smile. “You’ll feel much better once you get inside that room and are allowed to start.”

The brunet just gulped.

“But enough about that. How’re you feeling? Is your stomach okay?” the hydra asked in an even softer voice.

“Yeah, it’s fine,” Eragon replied honestly. “No trouble since this morning.”

Saphira winced in sympathy. Eragon’s stomach had decided that it wasn’t going to play nice anymore, and he had spent the first fifteen minutes of every morning so far hurling. Aksel had stopped teasing him two days after it had started. Apparently Eragon was quite nasty in the mornings now. Brom had just laughed heartily and blamed the hormones. Eragon had promptly blushed.

“Rider, Eragon!” a woman holding a list shouted into the room.

Eragon felt himself pale. Oh, fuck! He wasn’t ready yet!

“Don’t worry about it, Eragon. You’ll pass with flying colours, I can feel it,” Saphira said and pushed him towards the door.

The brunet just winced. He wasn’t too sure about that.

The woman directed him towards another room and shouted out another name. Eragon could feel his stomach clenching more and more as he walked down the hall. He really wished he could have had Saphira beside him now.

He breathed in and knocked on the door. He entered, presented himself to the supervising teacher and simply shook hands with Brom. The older man winked and nodded towards the two people in the other end of the room. Eragon gulped and turned around.

Eragon strangely enough felt his pulse slow down as he walked up to the two males. He had always wondered if the people they brought in didn’t feel violated or on display, but apparently they volunteered. Eragon shook his head to clear his mind and began to look over the first male. Eragon instantly noticed the sharper canines. A werewolf then. As Eragon looked on the man’s hands he saw the slightly sharpened and strong-looking nails, along with a few talon-like scars. His eyes were even slightly slanted. It wasn’t noticeable unless you knew where to look, but it helped that the full moon was only days away. Oh yes, he was definitely a werewolf.

The second man on the other hand was more of a mystery. Eragon bit his lip and looked a little harder. He looked a little familiar, but Eragon pushed those thoughts away. There was no tattoo present on his neck, so he wasn’t a hydra. Eragon couldn’t see any pointed ears or fangs, so he wasn’t an elf, werewolf or -thank god- vampire. The brunet stepped a little closer and tried to read the other man. He met Eragon’s curious eyes head-on. Eragon squinted and could practically feel his aura. _Magician_ , his mind whispered. Eragon then suddenly noticed the healing burns on his hands, a sign that he worked around fire a lot to create potions. There were also two sets of complicated tattoos designs around his wrists that ran almost up to his elbows. The brunet recognized a few of them to be related to magic use. Definitely a magician.

Eragon turned and nodded to Brom. The older man smirked and gestured to the desk in the corner. Eragon took a deep breath and sat down. Then he started to write the final part of his exam.

**::OBSESSION::**

“Thank God that’s over!” Eragon moaned as he fell onto the couch.

He and Saphira were once again back at Brom’s house. The older man wouldn’t be back until the exams were finished, but he had encouraged them to go ahead and leave without him. Aksel was still busy with his own exam, though Eragon couldn’t remember which the elf had that day, and wouldn’t be back for another hour or two.

“It wasn’t that horrible,” Saphira said teasingly.

“To me it was! God, that guy must have thought I was a freak!” the brunet exclaimed. “I stared, actually _stared_ at him. Granted, it was because of my staring that I picked up on his magical aura, but still...”

Saphira let out a small giggle.

“And I think they were friends,” Eragon said with a small pout. “I think that the werewolf picked up on my pregnancy and they started to talk about it after I left. I think they were laughing at me.”

“Oh, shush you,” the blue eyed girl scolded. “If anything then they were jealous. Jealous that someone had stolen you, I mean. They must have thought someone had claimed you and knocked you up.”

Eragon blinked in shock. What?

“Don’t give me that look. You’re pretty darn cute, Eragon. A lot of guys want a piece of you,” she said and winked.

The brunet blushed. He didn’t like the sound of that, not one bit.

“But whatever,” Eragon said grumpily. “I haven’t been claimed, but the fucker did knock me up.”

“Yes, and I ought to kill him for doing it,” Saphira said and leaned over to hug him. “That bastard.”

“You wouldn’t, though,” Eragon said quietly. “I know Thorn means a lot to you. Unless his rider tries to kill me, you won’t go after him.”

The blue haired girl frowned. She ran a hand through his hair before answering.

“Never say never.”

Eragon wasn’t able to comment as a hyper-active blond suddenly jumped into the room and scared them both. Aksel started to laugh almost hysterically as Eragon and Saphira tried to straighten themselves.

“Oh God, you should have seen yourself,” Aksel sniggered.

“You’re dead,” Eragon growled.

“Oy, don’t kill the messenger! I bring guests, yo,” Aksel said and stepped aside.

A second later Eragon found himself hugged by two equally gushing females.

“God, I haven’t seen you in forever!” the taller of the two women said and hugged him tighter.

“How have you been holding up?” the other asked and let go.

Eragon managed to wrestle out of Arya’s hold before he answered.

“Uh, fine. Just you know...still a bit freaked out about the whole _I’m pregnant_ thing.”

Arya and Nasuada’s eyes softened. They sat down in front of Saphira and Eragon while Aksel made himself comfortable on Eragon’s unoccupied right side.

“I’m sorry it’s been a while since we last visited,” Nasuada said softly. “Work has been keeping us both busy.”

“Hey, it’s okay,” Eragon said and smiled. “We’ve all been busy lately.”

“It’s no excuse,” Arya cut in. “We’ve been dying to see our nephew to-be!”

Eragon almost fell off the couch in surprise.

“Your...what?” he asked in a choked voice.

“Nephew,” Arya repeated. “If it’s a boy, that is.”

Eragon promptly sweatdropped. Aksel started to snigger beside him. Saphira reached over and slapped him in the back of his head without ever taking her eyes away from Eragon.

“Abuse, I swear...” Aksel murmured grumpily and rubbed the back of his head, making his hair look even more ruffled.

The girls laughed quietly while Eragon just rolled his eyes. He had gotten used to Aksel’s antics pretty quickly, considering that he lived with him.

“Apart from panicking, how are you?” Nasuada asked.

Eragon sighed.

“Well, the morning sickness has stopped at least,” he answered with a shrug. “Otherwise I’m just trying not to stress so much.”

“But after today you can just relax,” Aksel said loudly with a bright grin on his face. “No more exams, no more studying, no more stress.”

“Had it been that simple,” Eragon murmured darkly and snorted.

Saphira promptly hit Aksel again.

“Sometimes I forget how moronic you can be,” she commented dryly.

“Wha? What’d I do?!” Aksel asked with an offended look on his face.

“Your mouth truly isn’t connected to your brain, is it?” Arya said and shook her head. “Eragon has got plenty to worry about, moron. Like what he’s going to do in, oh, eight months!”

Eragon winced. He really wished they could scream at each other and be quiet at the same time. Oxymoron yes, but he had his reasons.

“Guys, it’s really no big deal,” Eragon said and sighed. “Could you please stop talking about it? At least, talk about it a little quieter?”

A soft murmur of apologies sounded around him. The brunet sighed again and stood up.

“Where are you going?” the blue eyed girl asked and stood up as well.

“I just...I want to get some air.”

Eragon knew that he was worrying his friends, but he truly felt fine. It was just that all the talk of him being pregnant made him feel claustrophobic, hence why he wanted to get some air. Besides, with a hydra and two elves in the house, there was no way someone could creep up on him undetected.

Eragon opened the doors to the terrace and stepped outside. He huddled himself deeper into his sweater and sighed. The air smelled of summer and a slight hint of rain. The sun was slowly beginning to set, but it was shining brightly still. The brunet missed actually feeling the warmth that the sun provided. Now he didn’t feel any different if he stood outside in the rain or during a hot summer day; he would only feel cold. But apparently that was a pregnancy symptom, one that only occurred during vampiric pregnancies though. And reading that had only made Eragon feel worse. He had after all gotten his worst fears confirmed; he was carrying a vampire.

The brunet wasn’t sure if he would have felt better if he had been the vampire’s mate. Or, when he thought about it, he knew he wouldn’t have. Being a mate would have automatically have given him a death sentence, courtesy of a very pissed off and mated vampire. But he remembered what Saphira had said. Thorn’s rider had killed the other mothers while they were still carrying his unborn child. If he found out, Eragon didn’t doubt that the same fate would be bestowed upon him.

Eragon took a deep breath. The air seemed to cleanse him from the inside and he could feel himself calm down. That was, until he noticed he wasn’t alone.

Before he could react, a hand was clasped over his mouth and he was dragged away from the doorway. Eragon tried to scream, but no sound could escape his lips. Feeling panic set in, he started to struggle. But his capturer’s hold was too tight. He couldn’t get away.

“Shh, calm down, I’m not here to hurt you,” the man behind him whispered.

Eragon let out a muffled sound of disbelief.

“If I wanted to hurt you, I would have done so already,” the man growled. “Promise me not to scream and I’ll let you go.”

Eragon panted harshly and stopped struggling. He closed his eyes and tried to read the man behind him. He couldn’t feel any malicious intent. Eragon slowly calmed himself down and nodded.

“Thanks.”

The brunet jumped away as soon as he was released. He crossed his arms over his stomach and turned around.

“What do you want?” he snapped.

His anger melted into confusion when he saw who it was. Red hair, red eyes and that familiar tattoo peeking out beneath the collar of his shirt; it was Thorn.

“...You?” Eragon whispered confusedly.

Thorn nodded sombrely.

“I’m here to talk to Saphira, if you’ll let me,” he said with a small, but respectful nod.

Eragon blinked in surprise. He wasn’t used to that kind of behaviour, certainly not when it was directed towards him.

“You don’t have to be all polite and stuff,” Eragon said quietly. “All you have to do is ask.”

“I cherish my manners,” Thorn said simply.

“But, I don’t know if -”

“My rider isn’t with me,” the redhead interrupted. “He doesn’t know where I am, either.”

“But when he sees that you’re gone -” Eragon said and clutched even tighter onto his sweater.

“I don’t expect him back for at least two days. We aren’t even staying in Carvahall. Please, all I want is to talk to her.”

Eragon bit his lip. Thorn seemed sincere enough. He sighed and nodded.

“Come with me, then,” he murmured and turned to walk back towards the terrace entrance.

“Ah, there you are! We were wondering if you had gotten lost out there,” Arya said teasingly as Eragon stepped back into the room.

“Don’t freak out, okay? Saphira, there’s someone here that wants to talk to you,” Eragon said meekly and nodded for Thorn to step inside.

Arya and Aksel were instantly on their feet, hostility radiating off of them in waves. Nasuada scowled suspiciously at the hydra, but remained seated.

“Thorn, what are you doing here?” Saphira asked sharply. “What of -”

“My rider and I are staying in Therinsford.” Thorn said and lifted his hands in surrender. “I came only to talk to you. My rider doesn’t know that I’m here, and he won’t find out either.”

“But why are you risking this?” Saphira asked quietly.

“I have news. It’s about my rider.”

“We don’t have a real part in this,” Nasuada said and stood up. “Come Arya, we can go and see to old Brom.”

“He’s still at the college, though,” Aksel said with a small frown, his attention taken away from the male hydra for a second.

“He should be done soon,” the dark eyed woman said with a small smile. “Arya, we’re leaving.”

Arya reluctantly let herself be taken away. She nodded to Eragon but shared a sharp look with Saphira.

“I’ll look after him,” Saphira replied.

“And me!” Aksel said and sent Thorn a glare.

Thorn rolled his eyes.

Eragon sighed and sat back down. Everything seemed to happening all at once and it was making his head spin. He clutched his head and tried to breathe calmly. For some reason he felt like panicking again. And he just knew it had something to do with what he was about to hear.

“Eragon?” Saphira asked softly.

“I’m fine. Just go ahead. I’ll leave if -”

“No. We’ll just step into the other room,” the blue haired girl said and looped her arm into Thorn’s. “You stay here. Aksel, watch him.”

Aksel nodded sharply. Eragon clutched his head tighter as he heard the hydras step out of the room. Before he knew it, the room was spinning and everything was turning black. All he heard was his name being called before he passed out.

**::OBSESSION::**

Saphira bit her lip as she watched over her rider. She hadn’t even been able to close the door after her before Eragon had fallen over. That had been a half hour ago. She had refused to leave his side since.

“I’m sorry,” Thorn muttered quietly. “Is he alright?”

Saphira sighed tiredly. Aksel was out in the hallway calling his sister. They only had a few more minutes alone before she knew Arya and Nasuada would be back with Brom at their heels. The only reason Aksel was still talking to Arya was that Brom hadn’t finished supervising the exams until ten minutes ago, and Nasuada had refused to leave without the professor.

“The pregnancy is tiring him out,” Saphira said softly. “This is the first time he’s fainted, though. I think it was a panic-attack. I think that he’s scared your rider is coming for him.”

“If I can prevent it, my rider won’t even step without a thousand feet of Eragon,” Thorn growled. “I refuse to see the same happen to him that happened to the others.”

“Why? Why do you care so much?” the blue eyed girl asked quietly.

“Because I care about you,” Thorn admitted.

Saphira gave him a soft smile. Had it been any other day she might have responded more vocally. But at that moment she was too busy worrying about her rider.

“You said you needed to talk to me?” she said and frowned. “Earlier, that’s what you said. Well, we have the time now.”

The redhead crossed his arms and frowned. Saphira shifted from her place on the spare bed and looked at the other. Thorn shifted and leaned onto the wall as he seemed to think something over.

“My rider...isn’t well,” he said finally.

Saphira nearly flinched in surprise.

“Oh?”

“I suspect that there’s an underlying cause to it,” Thorn continued. “He actually threw up the other day. Before that he was in pain, and he’s still having nightmares. Granted, he always has nightmares, but these are different.”

Saphira clenched her hands together. She didn’t dare to think what Thorn was saying. Whatever she started to believe, she had a feeling the other would destroy her hopes before they had even fully settled.

“I...” Thorn sighed. “I suspect that he’s found his mate.”

Saphira felt her eyes widen. She gazed at Eragon before snapping her gazed back at the male hydra. Thorn was stubbornly looking at the wall opposite of the brunet.

“And you think that...?” Saphira breathed.

“I can’t tell for sure,” the red haired man growled. “Do you have any idea how many people he devours in a month? A week even?!”

The blue eyed girl clenched her eyes shut. No, she couldn’t and wouldn’t want to imagine that.

“All I know is that he hasn’t left anyone alive since Eragon,” Thorn said gruffly. “It might mean everything and it might mean nothing. For all I know he accidentally killed his mate. I just - there’s no fucking way to tell!!”

Saphira stood up and walked over to the other. She laid a comforting hand onto his shoulder and started to gently caress his arm with her other. Thorn was obviously frustrated.

“I’ve estimated it to be about fourteen deaths since he met Eragon,” the redhead said in a voice oozing with disgust. “Fourteen in two months. That’s almost two a week!”

Saphira could feel the tears threatening to fall for the deaths of the innocent people. She pushed them back and forced herself to focus on the matter at hand. She could mourn losses later. Right now she had a duty. As a hydra she needed to know how to protect her rider best.

“And anyone of them could be the reason my rider is going mad,” Thorn spat angrily.

Saphira reached out and sent waves of calmness into the other. Thorn was resistant at first, but slowly he warmed up to her touch and her comfort. And finally she felt him start to relax.

“I understand your worry, your frustration,” she whispered. “But right now you need to focus. Are you sure there was no one else left alive?”

“Yes,” Thorn said with an angry scowl directed at the wall. “I checked. Whenever we’d leave a city, I’d make sure to check the obituaries and newspapers. Everyone that I can link back to Murtagh has been found dead.”

Saphira sighed. She leaned onto Thorn and buried her head into his chest. She allowed the sound of his heart beating to calm her down. She was almost beginning to feel drowsy when she remembered something.

“...Murtagh?” she whispered. “Is that the name of your rider?”

Thorn stiffened.

“No, forget I ever said that!” he exclaimed and pushed away from her. “I never said that name, do you understand me?!”

“No, you said Murtagh,” Saphira pushed on. “Murtagh, the son of whom?”

“NO!” Thorn barked. “I’ve said too much! **Dammit**!! You were never supposed to know.”

“Is he the one I think he is?” Saphira asked and stalked up to the male hydra. “Is he -”

“No,” Thorn said sternly. “He’s not the son of anyone.”

Before Saphira could block her mind, she felt Thorn reach out and place a palm over her forehead. A sense of calmness entered her before it quickly disappeared. She came to a second later.

“...What did you do?” she murmured quietly, her voice steadily rising. “What did you do!?”

“I made you forget,” Thorn said mournfully. “I’m sorry. I couldn’t let you remember his name. It’s far too risky.”

Saphira presented him with a betrayed look. How could he?

“I only came to tell you that Eragon needs to be well looked after. I can’t keep my rider away forever. Maybe it would be best if he moved.”

“Eragon isn’t going anywhere,” Saphira spat. “He stays here with me, with his friends, where he’s safe and where he belongs.”

Thorn sent her a pained look.

“If that is what you think is best. Just please be extra careful,” he said.

“I know how to look after my rider,” she snarled and stepped back to stand by Eragon’s side.

Thorn’s gaze shifted from her to the sleeping male on the bed.

“Are you sure he’s carrying a vampire?” he asked softly, almost curiously.

“Yes,” Saphira said firmly. “He feels cold all the time, even now, a sure sign that he isn’t your rider’s mate.”

Thorn almost looked disappointed.

“Why?” Saphira asked. “Why do you look like you wanted me to reply differently?”

“Because Eragon did something to him,” Thorn replied. “He was almost bearable for a short while. But then the pains came and he only got worse. I’ve never seen him as brutal and cruel as he is now.”

“When did the pains start?”

Thorn flinched.

“A week after he met Eragon...a day after feeding off someone else,” the redhead recited dully.

Saphira brushed a hand through Eragon’s hair. It felt soft under her touch. So soft that she could almost forget everything that he had been through, what he was going through. In his sleep he looked so innocent.

“The reaction could be related to either case,” Saphira said and looked away from the brunet. “That is what you’re saying?”

Thorn nodded mutely.

“And the nightmares?”

“A few days after Eragon,” Thorn replied.

“It all comes down to him, doesn’t it?” Saphira asked quietly, a small fond smile on her face.

“If it does come down to him in the end, I have one thing to ask of you,” Thorn said stiffly.

Saphira snapped her gaze back at the hydra. Thorn’s eyes had shut down; only a dull red cover remained that masked his inner turmoil perfectly.

“If it ever comes to it, I need you to fight me with all you have. I’ll be forced to protect my rider should any threat come while I’m there. You might even have to kill me.”

“No!” Saphira cried and leaped forward to grasp onto Thorn. “I could never do that. Don’t ask that of me!”

“If Eragon is in danger, won’t you do anything to protect him?” Thorn asked quietly.

“Of course,” Saphira whispered.

“Then you might need to kill me to get my rider to back off. Or you might need to kill him.”

Saphira shook her head firmly.

“I can’t...I can’t,” she repeated brokenly and closed her eyes.

She couldn’t look at him anymore. Not when she knew...not when she knew that he was speaking the truth.

“My rider is a vampire, a very dangerous vampire. If he finds out that Eragon’s pregnant by him he will try to kill Eragon. You have to be prepared to fight him and me if that happens!” the redhead said firmly and raised her eyes to meet his. “Promise me you’ll fight if my rider comes to kill the kid.”

Saphira felt a tear escape her right eye.

“Promise me!” Thorn said harshly and moved so that only a millimetre separated their lips.

“I -”

“PROMISE ME!” Thorn exclaimed loudly.

“I promise,” Saphira sobbed.

Thorn leaned his forehead against hers softly. He looked into her eyes and sighed.

“I wish things were different,” he murmured quietly. “Then maybe you and I could have...”

“You say that like the fight’s already over,” the blue haired girl murmured back.

“It doesn’t look bright, now does it? I might be up against a hydra protecting her rider and his unborn child. There’s no scarier thing to face,” Thorn said with a soft smirk.

Saphira let out a broken laugh.

“...Before I go...are you absolutely sure what Eragon is feeling is that kind of cold? The cold associated with carrying a vampiric foetus?”

Saphira looked up.

“Yes. Why?” she asked in a confused voice.

Thorn presented her with a half-smile.

“There are more ways to feel cold than just that one,” he said simply.

Before Saphira could speak Thorn had covered her mouth with his. Saphira felt her blood begin to sing under his touch. He brushed a hand softly through her hair before letting go. Saphira opened her eyes and watched him leave with the warmth of his touch still present on her lips.

“You think it’s him,” she said into the silent room.

Saphira felt another tear slip down her cheek. She brushed it away and let out a soft laugh.

“And I don’t know whether to take your side or pray you’re wrong.”

**::OBSESSION::**

“Where were you?” Murtagh growled when Thorn entered the house they had decided to stay in.

It was the worst one so far, no contest. The roof had holes in some places, so they had neglected to use the first floor. There were even places in the ground floor where the roof had holes. A few windows were missing, but those they had nailed shut with some nearby planks. The door hadn’t even been present when they had arrived. Thorn had simply walked upstairs and carried down a door. At least now they had something to lock at night. And even if vampires couldn’t feel hot and cold the same way as other creatures, Murtagh could tell the house was poorly insulated. Seeing Thorn huddle in an extra blanket at night was more than enough confirmation for the vampire.

When Murtagh had come back early in the morning he had found the house empty. A look at Thorn’s belongings told him that the hydra had actually taken off for a few days. And it bothered Murtagh. Thorn had never taken off before. It wasn’t like him. And he was going to make sure Thorn knew he had noticed his little escape.

“How many did you kill this time?” Thorn asked instead and flung a simple knapsack onto his bed.

They had a knapsack and a larger bag that they used to travel with. It was in case they had more that they needed to bring along, such as food that hadn’t been eaten up, or other things. But Thorn had never used his, not until now that was.

“Answer my question, Thorn,” Murtagh growled.

“Only after you answer mine,” Thorn shot back.

Murtagh narrowed his eyes. He raised an eyebrow and snorted.

“None.”

Thorn let out a harsh laugh.

“What, now you’re lying? I thought that was too much of a bother for you. Denial is more your game,” the redhead snarled and quickly changed his sweater, not caring that Murtagh was watching.

“I’m not lying,” Murtagh said coldly. “You’re welcome to check every damn newspaper you want. The last one I killed was five days ago.”

Thorn paused. Slowly he pulled the sweater down and turned to face the vampire. His face screamed of disbelief.

“When was the last time you fed then?”

Murtagh let that one slide. He knew that Thorn wouldn’t answer him until he has sated the redhead’s curiosity.

“Five days ago,” he said dully. “Have you become deaf as well as stupid?”

Thorn simply rolled his eyes.

“Then why where you gone?” he asked suspiciously.

“Nu-uh, it’s my turn now,” Murtagh stated happily and sat up in a flash, the cruel smirk on his lips ruining the innocence of his words. “Where were you?”

Thorn stiffened.

“In Carvahall,” he replied finally.

The hazel eyed man raised an eyebrow.

“Checking up on your girlfriend, are you?” Murtagh smirked. “How sweet of you.”

“Fuck you,” Thorn growled and stalked out of the room.

“Aww, don’t be mad!” Murtagh taunted. “I’m sure she was oh-so happy to see you again. Did you get a chance to bang her this time?”

Murtagh managed to duck away from Thorn’s punch just in time. He jumped back and laughed amusedly.

“My, aren’t we being touchy?”

“Just fuck you, Murtagh,” Thorn snarled angrily. “I hate your _fucking_ guts! Sometimes I wish you’d just frigging **die**!!”

The hazel eyed man fell silent. He knew when to stop taunting Thorn. If he hadn’t, the hydra would have killed him years ago. He leaned onto the wall and watched as Thorn started to angrily wash the dishes from the day before.

“Thorn?” he asked in a calm voice.

If he weren’t careful, he would have to run away from his own hydra. Oh, the irony.

“I wish you’d just get the hint already or that you’d just get sicker and die!” Thorn snarled. “Don’t you even have the slightest idea of what’s going on?!”

Murtagh frowned. He should have just let the comment slide. He should have just walked out of the house and come back when Thorn had calmed down. But no, he had to be a stupid ass and ask Thorn what was going on. Murtagh rolled his eyes. That was what he got for being even the slightest bit of nice.

“...I can’t say I do,” Murtagh said a calm and slow voice.

Thorn turned around and showed him just how angry he was. Murtagh flinched and didn’t bother to hide it. Thorn wasn’t just angry, he was livid. _Oh joy_.

“The reason you’re in pain, why you’re throwing up, why the nightmares are resurfacing...you can’t tell me you’re too frigging much in denial to see it!”

Hazel eyes flashed briefly. Murtagh scowled and crossed his arms.

“You stopped making sense ages ago,” he drawled in reply.

Thorn let out a loud and angry cry. Murtagh felt his eyes widen for just a second before he shot up into the air and landed on the first floor. He looked down at Thorn with surprise in his eyes. Where he had just been standing there was a hole in the wall with Thorn’s fist going straight through it.

“You’re a bloody coward!” Thorn screamed up at him. “Come down here and face your fears!!”

“My only fear right now, you deformed lizard, is for you,” Murtagh growled. “What the fuck’s wrong with you?”

“YOU! You’re what’s wrong with me!! Why can’t you just wake up and realise that you’re mated already!!!”

Murtagh felt himself stumble as if he had been pushed. In a flash he had regained his footing and was standing before Thorn with a glare promising death.

“What did you just say?” he hissed darkly.

“The rashes, the pains, the inability to drink others blood anymore and keep it down...don’t tell me you can’t connect the dots,” Thorn taunted.

“You’re delusional,” Murtagh spat murderously. “I’m not fucking mated!!”

“But you are.”

Murtagh felt his eyes bleed into black, and for once it was not his own doing. He snarled at the hydra and leaned up to look directly into Thorn’s eyes.

“If you ever suggest that I’m mated again, I’ll kill you. I don’t care if I die in the process, I’ll fucking kill you.”

And with that said, Murtagh turned around and walked out of the house.

**::OBSESSION::**

Eragon couldn’t help but to notice the change in Saphira after Thorn had visited. She was quieter and usually had a small frown on her lips, as if she was constantly thinking. He had asked her what Thorn had wanted, but Saphira had just brushed off his questions. And it was starting to worry him.

As the next two weeks passed he had gotten the results from his exams and the final semester had ended. He had passed his Mythology exam with flying colours and had gotten As and Bs on his other ones. Eragon was very happy, even more so when he found that Saphira had gotten all As. But as July started to creep up on them, Eragon could feel the pressure. He had realised that he wouldn’t be able to go back to college in the autumn. If he was lucky, he could go back in two or so years.

Aksel had applied for his second year, but Saphira had flat-out refused to do so. She was going to stay home and make sure he was alright, apparently. Eragon had blinked when she had once used the word ‘safe’. He really, really wondered what Thorn had said to her.

The brunet was shaken out of his thoughts as the loud boom of thunder entered his ears. He looked out of the window and sighed. He and Saphira had moved into Brom’s house after their contract ran out with the school. They had after all lived in apartments provided by the school. Arya and Nasuada had applied to keep theirs and the same with Aksel. But Eragon and Saphira who hadn’t applied for their second year would be unable to live in the apartment complex any longer.

Eragon looked up when he heard someone enter the room. It was late and Saphira had gone to bed two hours ago, so he didn’t think it was her. He sent Brom a half-smile as the older man sat down in his regular seat.

“Still can’t sleep?”

Eragon shook his head.

“Insomnia isn’t an uncommon symptom in pregnancies,” Brom commented and took a sip out of the steaming cup in his hands.

Eragon flinched slightly. He reached down and laid a hand over his stomach. It was still fairly flat, though it had hardened over the months. And if he looked close enough, there was a small lump growing in sync with the child within him.

“I’m still not sure if I believe it,” he said quietly. “I never thought guys could get pregnant. And then later I thought it would never happen to me. I mean, it’s me!”

“Why? Aren’t you homosexual?” Brom asked curiously.

Eragon blushed. He had no idea how Brom could say that word so casually.

“Well, yeah I am, but...Still! I just never thought it’d happen to me.”

Brom chuckled.

“You never think it’s going to happen to you, and when it does, you still don’t believe it,” he said in a slightly nostalgic voice.

Eragon turned around. Brom’s eyes were twinkling slightly, as if he was remembering something.

“Brom?” Eragon breathed.

“Ah, don’t mind me. I’m just an old man remembering his past,” the elder brunet said dismissively and shook his head.

“...Did something like this happen to you?”

Brom laughed heartily.

“Oh no, my boy,” he chuckled. “But I was young too, once.”

Eragon frowned but didn’t comment. For some reason he’d rather not know what Brom was talking about.

“Sir?” Eragon turned away from the window to look more properly at his mentor. “Do you know what’s wrong with Saphira?”

Brom sighed tiredly.

“I think that guy of hers came with some bad news,” he mused. “Something that shook her up enough to want to stay by your side constantly.”

Eragon gulped. He really didn’t like the sound of that.

“You don’t have to look all panicked, Eragon,” Brom said with a small laugh. “Had he given her really bad news, she would have forced you to move to a remote island with only her and a few wild animals as company.”

Eragon smiled sheepishly. That was true.

“Don’t worry too much about her, son. If something was truly wrong, then she would tell you.”

Eragon nodded.

“But I can’t help but to worry! She hasn’t talked to me in a long time, not truly talked to me,” he said quietly.

“I’m sure she’ll come around very soon,” Brom said smugly.

The brunet let out a soft laugh. He buried himself deeper into the blanket he was wrapped in and sighed. He was almost beginning to feel sleepy. Brom chuckled and got up. He wasn’t able to do anything else before the door was slammed open.

Eragon sat up startled and looked at the dishevelled figure standing in the doorway. He blinked when he realised that it was Saphira. She looked almost panicked as her eyes scanned the room frantically.

“Saphira?” he asked and stood up.

“Where is he?” she asked sharply. “I know he’s here!”

“Saphira, no one’s here but the three of us,” Brom said with a frown on his lips. “Who are you looking for?”

“Thorn! I know he’s here,” she panted, her eyes scanning on the windows and the door to the terrace.

“What?” Brom snapped.

Saphira didn’t answer. She ran across the room and threw open the doors. She peered into the dark night, and Eragon threw the blanket off of him when he saw her activate her eyes.

“Oh, God,” she whispered.

“What?” Brom barked. “What do you see?”

“Thorn’s back and he’s not alone this time.”

**::OBSESSION::**

“I don’t see why you had to drag me into this,” the other man groaned. “There isn’t much I can do, especially if you aren’t actually taking me to him.”

“I need you to look at someone else first,” Thorn said grumpily. “Besides, Murtagh has to be knocked out before he lets someone take a look at him. Especially if that someone is you.”

“Then why ask for me?” the man growled.

“Because you’re the only one that knows about him and me, and you’re the only one I trust,” Thorn said simply. “There’s the house.”

The other man tugged Thorn to a stop. He narrowed his eyes to look at the house more properly. He crossed his arms and directed his gaze back at the hydra. By doing so, a hint of designs could be seen on his arms.

“You want me to go in there? That’s Brom Teller’s house,” the man said and snorted. “Unless I’m you, I’m not even allowed to step foot onto that ground.”

“Why?”

“Because Teller happens to be the most famous rider that survived the riot. You, a hydra, can go into the palace without asking for permission. I’m just a lowly magician,” the man paused. “Did you know that he likes to mock my kind as much as he can?”

“Everyone does that,” the redhead said dryly.

The man glared. His black hair was pulled back into a low ponytail, but the rain had caused several strands to fall into his face. His cold blue eyes looked back to the house before snapping back at the hydra. If possible, the glare darkened.

“If it bothers you that much, tell him that you’re half elf half magician,” Thorn drawled. “But there’s someone inside that house I want you to meet.”

“It wouldn’t be the other hydra that’s glaring at us?” the magician snorted.

“Ah, she sensed us already?” Thorn said and looked back towards the terrace. “But no, it’s not her.”

The other man crocked an eyebrow.

“Fine, but only because I owe you one,” he said sourly.

Thorn snorted and continued to lead the way towards the house. He wasn’t surprised to see Eragon standing beside Saphira. He frowned when he noticed the tiredness on both of their faces. As he came even closer, he noticed a tall and brown haired man. He came to a stop and bowed his head respectfully at the man he knew to be the owner of the house.

“May we step inside?”

“You may,” Brom replied calmly. “You must be Thorn.”

Thorn nodded.

“This is Vanir Therr. He’s a friend of mine,” the redhead said and gestured towards the silent magician.

“And just what might you be?” Brom asked.

Thorn watched as Saphira made Eragon sit back down and take a seat beside him. Then he looked back up to see what his friend might answer. Vanir was scowling as he opened his mouth to speak.

“I’m a chimera magician, sir. Half elf half magician,” he drawled. “And yes, the magician is stronger in me than the elf.”

Brom let out a bark like laugh. Thorn rolled his eyes.

“You have to be the first chimera magician I’ve ever heard of!” Brom said with another laugh. “What made your mother or father look outside of her or his community for love?”

Vanir sneered.

“We’re not here to discuss my lineage,” he said sourly. “Thorn wanted me to look at someone, for some strange reason. I can’t see why someone would need any medicinal help in the hands of the great Brom Teller.”

Brom laughed quietly as he sat back down. Thorn had to say that he was a little amused himself. It seemed like Vanir had passed the introduction part just fine.

“I want you to look at Eragon,” the redhead said and nodded towards the brunet. “He’s carrying.”

Vanir directed his eyes away from the owner of the house. He raised an eyebrow as he looked Eragon up and down.

“And why might you be interested in his pregnancy?” he drawled.

“I have my reasons,” Thorn said and sent him a glare. “If Saphira allows it, I would like you to check on his child.”

“You were serious!” Saphira said and nearly jumped to her feet. “You actually think that -”

“I have my suspicions,” the male hydra said with a sombre look.

“Well, may I?” Vanir asked and gestured towards the hydra and her rider.

“What are you going to do?” Eragon asked suspiciously.

“I’m just going to check your child’s vitals, its aura and sex, if you want me to,” Vanir said calmly.

Thorn was a little surprised to see him act so calm. When he had checked up on Murtagh, the few times that the vampire had allowed Vanir to get close; they had bickered and insulted each other until the very end.

“Sex? I’m not even three months pregnant!” Eragon exclaimed.

“Then you can strike that off the list,” Vanir said with a shrug. “I only need to touch your stomach, nothing else. No needles, no potions, no magic mumbo-jumbo, just a touch.

Saphira hadn’t looked away from Thorn the entire time. The redhead had been ignoring her gaze, however. He needed some confirmation, or he would go mad!

“Alright,” the brunet said meekly. “But no funny business or Saphira will kill you.”

Vanir smirked.

“No funny business,” he agreed.

Thorn moved over to stand close to Saphira as the magician worked. She reached out to touch him. He gently took her hand in his. She hadn’t reached out mentally yet, meaning that she didn’t need to ask him why he was there. She had already guessed his reasons. Thorn sent an apology to her and met her gaze when she sent him a shocked look. He merely nodded and looked back at her rider.

Eragon looked uncomfortable as he pulled up his hoodie. Vanir sat crouched before him and gently placed a palm onto his flat stomach. Slowly his palm began to glow a soft green colour.

“You said no magic!!” Eragon exclaimed with panic clearly visible in his voice.

“I said no mumbo-jumbo. I’m just reading your child’s signals, nothing else. To do that I need to use a little magic,” Vanir explained calmly. “But I can’t say what you want me to look for, Thorn. He -”

Thorn stiffened at Vanir’s pause. The magician frowned and retracted his hand. Eragon quickly pulled his sweater back into place.

“Well?” Brom said gruffly.

“The child’s healthy,” Vanir said and slowly stood up, looking over at Thorn as he did so. “It’s aura however...I thought you said...”

Thorn smirked. So, he had been right.

“I did say that,” Thorn replied simply.

“What is going on?” Brom barked. “Don’t just stand there and talk in code!”

“His rider knocked you up, correct?” Vanir asked, his eyes once again directed at Eragon.

“His bastardly vampiric rider, yeah,” Eragon answered.

“Well, I’m not sure how many I’m about to please with my words,” the magician said and crossed his arms over his chest.

“Just get on with it!” Brom snapped and moved over to stand beside Eragon and glared at the dark haired man.

“...That kid there isn’t carrying a vampire to-be,” Vanir drawled.

The room fell into silence. Thorn sighed. Saphira’s hand tightened in his.

“...What?” Eragon asked with confusion written on his face. “But, I...”

“It means that Thorn was right,” Vanir interrupted. “I’m sorry to say this kid, but it looks like you’ve gotten yourself a vampire mate.”


	5. Tormented By You

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Please be aware of the tags before reading this chapter. There is a scene in this chapter, containing dub-con bordering on non-con, that can be potentially triggery.
> 
> **_Word_** – word written in my language Andelan
> 
> _-Speech.-_ Eragon/Saphira, Murtagh/Thorn and Thorn/Saphira talking to each other mentally.

_::July::_

Eragon wanted to laugh. That had to be a joke. There was no reason he was that vampire’s mate. There was no evidence that he was either! And so he laughed.

“Eragon!” Saphira cried out.

But he just continued to laugh.

“I broke the kid, didn’t I?” Vanir asked sourly.

“How dare you say such a thing?!” Brom barked angrily. “You have no evidence to back you up!”

“No?” Vanir said shocked. “How about...I’m a _magician_ , I can _sense_ these things! And you know, when I go and check on the bastard, I’m sure I’ll be able to tell that he’s been mated. Why, would you like to come along and see it for yourself? I’m sure he wouldn’t mind the company.”

“Vanir, shut up,” Thorn growled. “No one is coming with us.”

“SHUT UP ALL OF YOU!” Saphira shouted.

The room fell silent. Eragon had stopped laughing by now; his laughter had turned into sobs halfway through. Saphira was holding him tightly and was trying her best to calm him, but nothing helped.

Outside another thunder boomed across the sky.

“So it’s true?” Saphira asked quietly. “Eragon is his mate?”

Eragon couldn’t see what was going on around him, but he could hear it well enough. His body was shaking as he sobbed, and all Saphira could do was to hold on.

“Yes,” Vanir said quietly. “I’m ninety percent sure that he is, but I need to check on the vampire to be a hundred percent sure.”

Brom grumbled something loudly under his breath. Vanir just let out an offended snort.

“How can you be sure when the foetus’s heart hasn’t started to beat yet?” Brom asked gruffly.

“A vampire is surrounded by a thin shield of magic in the womb, a shield that melts into the child just before it’s born. Eragon’s kid doesn’t have that shield,” the magician explained.

“Says you,” Brom growled.

“This is not the time to second guess one another,” Saphira said sternly. “Thorn, I need to know how often your rider feeds.”

Eragon was slowly beginning to calm down. He crossed his arms over his stomach and tried to get his breathing back to normal. A part of him just wanted to go to sleep, to escape everything that was going on around him. He wasn’t ready to be a parent, much less someone’s mate! A vampire’s mate at that!! Eragon took deep breaths and forced himself to listen.

“...It used to be twice a week,” Thorn said awkwardly. “Now, however...he hasn’t fed in over two weeks.”

“What?” Vanir snapped in surprise. “Why didn’t you contact me sooner?”

“Because I needed to be sure!” Thorn snapped in reply. “Do you have any idea how hard he is to read?”

“What has he been doing all this time?” Brom asked in a controlled voice.

Eragon braved to look up. Brom still stood by his side. Thorn had walked away from Saphira and stood a foot away from Vanir, both of which were standing almost directly in front of Eragon. Thorn looked over at Brom before replying.

“Sleeping mostly,” he paused. “He sleeps through his nightmares now. He can’t or doesn’t want to wake up from them anymore.”

“He hasn’t been conscious?!” Vanir barked.

“Of course he has,” Thorn said and glared. “Or I would have come to find you earlier. No, he simply sleeps right through the night, and he’s awake during the day. What else he does, I don’t know. It’s like I don’t know him anymore.”

“Geez, just how much has he been PMSing lately?” Vanir drawled.

“A lot,” Thorn replied dryly. “First he was blood-thirsty beyond words, then he was sadistic border lining masochistic. Then he just sat down and didn’t seem to care anymore.”

Vanir pursed his lips.

“You should have come sooner.”

Thorn looked away.

“Thorn, I need to know the name of your rider,” Brom said seriously. “You are aware of that your rider is the second rider in history to have a hydra by his side?”

Thorn looked up in shock. He shook his head mutely.

“Morzan was the first,” the professor said quietly.

The redhead flinched.

“Saphira has told me everything you told her about your rider,” Brom continued. “Your rider was a product of a forced coupling, a bred vampire. And he refuses to make more vampires that way. She said that your rider has killed the people he impregnated so that he wouldn’t be walking in his father’s footsteps.”

Eragon watched Thorn nod with a displeased look on his face.

“Tell me more about him and about his father.”

Eragon realised that Brom hadn’t asked Thorn to, he had demanded it. He watched the red haired hydra slowly sit down in Brom’s empty place and scowl.

“His father died when he was young, ten years old I think,” Thorn said in a low rumbling voice. “He found me about a year later. Even though his vampire side kicked in two years after that, our bond had already been established. I couldn’t leave him, and I haven’t since.”

“...Sounds familiar,” Brom said almost to himself. “Do you know where he’s from?”

“He never told me,” the redhead admitted. “But I know that he spent a few years of his childhood here.”

Brom ran a hand over his chin.

“I need that name, Thorn,” he said sternly.

“I can’t,” Thorn growled. “And you keep your mouth shut, Therr! I can’t betray him like that.”

“Yes, what was it you said? He has enough people after his head, was it?” the professor crocked an eyebrow.

Thorn just scowled in answer.

“Thorn, what good does it to hold it back? He’s going to come here on his own, anyway,” Vanir said deadpanned.

“I. _Can’t_.”

“ _ **Jhan kar noil weth ak. Jhan dorkanen yat sin kogen kir jhun. Grall il!**_ ” Vanir spat angrily in _Andelan_.

“I can speak _Andelan_ as well as you, **_ponal_** ,” Brom said coldly. “Speak so that everyone can understand.”

Vanir scowled.

“Give me a day or two with him, so that we can make sure we aren’t mistaken,” Thorn said and stood. “Then I will tell you his name.”

Vanir looked surprised. Thorn just sent him a glare before nodding his head towards the way they had come. Vanir nodded.

“Must you go already?” Saphira asked almost sadly.

“I’ll be back,” Thorn said nonchalantly.

He nodded respectfully to Brom before he and Vanir suddenly disappeared out of sight.

**::OBSESSION::**

“Why should we trust them?!” Aksel spat angrily.

The chimera had come to visit the next day. He had taken one look at Eragon, noticed his inner turmoil, and had demanded to know what had happened. Saphira was just glad that Arya and Nasuada hadn’t come as well. She had a feeling that Arya would have flown through the roof at the news.

“Because, as much as I hate to admit it, that magician was right. It’s in his blood to sense things, magic in particular, even more so because he was half elf. Magicians are rarely wrong,” Brom explained sourly.

Aksel grumbled darkly under his breath and kicked the wall.

“I can’t believe this!!” he exclaimed loudly.

“We can’t either,” Saphira said softly.

Eragon was still sleeping. He had fallen asleep almost immediately after Thorn and the magician had left. He had been asleep since, and she was starting to feel worried. But it hadn’t been ten hours just yet, so Saphira forced herself to remain calm.

“I’m afraid that I’m starting to believe Thorn’s speculations,” Brom said tiredly. “And I’m even more afraid that I might know who his rider is already.”

“What, who?!” Aksel exclaimed in surprise.

“I thought he left a long time ago with the intention to stay away from Carvahall,” Brom mused quietly. “I guess I was wrong.”

“You know him?” the blond asked with confusion lazed in his voice.

Saphira looked away. She wasn’t sure if she needed Thorn’s confirmation anymore. Brom’s speculations were enough.

“I met a young vampire almost twenty years ago,” the older man said nonchalantly. “It seems that I haven’t seen the last of him just yet.”

“Who?” Aksel whined.

“If you had a brain, Aksel, you wouldn’t have to ask,” Saphira drawled.

The blond pouted.

“You know I never remember that kind of stuff!!”

Saphira sighed and rolled her eyes.

“Whatever. You’ll find out soon enough,” she murmured and went back to her late breakfast.

Aksel snorted; clearly looking offended and dove into his own food. Brom put a hand over his eyes and sighed tiredly.

“I’m getting too old for all of this,” he groaned.

“And it’s not even over yet,” Saphira said sadly.

Brom looked up and into her eyes.

“No, it’s not even close to being over.”

**::OBSESSION::**

Thorn didn’t like what he was seeing. Murtagh hadn’t woken up since he had left to take Vanir to Saphira and her rider, and during the night he had gotten a fever. Thorn hadn’t even realised that his rider had been genuinely sick before he had seen the sickly white colour on Murtagh’s face. Usually he was just pale, now he almost looked transparent.

“...You do realise this doesn’t look good,” Vanir drawled.

Thorn just sent him a dark glare. He didn’t need someone to point out that Murtagh looked to be on death’s door.

“If we don’t do something soon, he might go into a deep sleep,” the magician said and clicked his tongue. “Once he reaches the second stage of that sleep, a coma will set in and then I’d estimate his resurrection to be in about...a hundred or so years.”

“ _Fuck_ ,” Thorn growled. “Isn’t there something you can do?!”

Vanir rolled his eyes and replaced the damp cloth on Murtagh’s forehead with another.

“Some blood would probably help.”

“Weren’t you supposed to check if Eragon was his mate first?!?” Thorn barked loudly. “Or you might as well be signing his death sentence!!”

The magician sighed.

“With the blood-fever being this high and running so strongly inside of him, I can’t tell for sure. But from what I got from the kid, I’m still ninety percent certain.”

“That’s not good enough!” Thorn roared. “I refuse to risk killing Murtagh just because you’re _ninety percent_ **SURE**!”

“Then there’s nothing I can do!” Vanir snapped and stood up. “Either get the kid over here, or you can say goodbye to your friend.”

“Wait; get the kid?” Thorn seethed.

“In this state Murtagh needs fresh blood to be able to wake properly,” Vanir said and rubbed his temples in an irritated manner.

“But donated blood won’t kill him,” the redhead argued.

“No, but then you might need more to lure Murtagh from death’s door,” the magician stressed. “And the last time I checked, the kid was pregnant and needed as much energy as possible to get through it.”

Thorn cursed loudly and flung the closest object, which happened to be a chair, into the wall. It shattered upon impact. Vanir didn’t even blink in surprise. Thorn panted harshly as he tried to calm himself down.

“How could he have gotten this bad in only a few hours?” he asked in a low and angry tone.

“He must have been hiding how sick he was. Didn’t want to admit that you were right, I suspect,” Vanir clicked his tongue again. “Vampire’s always were too stubborn for their own good.”

“Pot calling the kettle black, much?” Thorn sneered.

Vanir huffed. He leaned over to check Murtagh’s pulse and frowned when he found it.

“It’s almost dangerously irregular,” he commented quietly and raised his hands to hover above Murtagh’s eyes. “Since you’re being such a stubborn mule, I’ll check.”

Before Thorn could ask what he meant, Vanir’s palm started to glow green. The dark haired chimera frowned before retracting his hand.

“...Ninety-five percent; that’s as certain as I can get,” he said and straightened. “I suggest you bring that kid here, let Murtagh have some of his blood, then get the kid out of here as fast as possible. If the bastard wakes right away, then you need to get him away before Murtagh kills him.”

Thorn cursed again. He really didn’t like the options Vanir was giving him.

“Look at it this way, Thorn; if you give Murtagh a dose now instead of waiting for the first stage of the deep sleep to set in, then the bastard won’t even realise that Eragon’s carrying. If you wait only a week more, then the heart will start beating and Murtagh will know,” Vanir said and pursed his lips.

“But it doesn’t matter. Murtagh will find out anyway when he needs a new dose!”

Vanir shook his head.

“Just have the kid donate blood regularly and give it to Murtagh within him knowing who it’s from. Once you’ve warmed him up to the idea, then you can spring the news,” the magician paused. “Personally I’d wait until the kid has given birth.”

Thorn just scowled in answer.

“I can’t believe I’m going to say this, but contact me if anything else happens, or you need help,” Vanir scowled, mostly at himself, before continuing. “I don’t like that guy, but a hydra’s rider is something special. I would not be happy with myself if he died and I could have helped somehow.”

Thorn let out a soft chuckle.

“I will,” he said and nodded to the other as he left the room.

Thorn sighed and looked down at his rider. Murtagh was sweating profusely and was muttering in his sleep. By the look on his face he was obviously in a lot of pain.

“You bastard, why did you have to keep this from me?” he whispered in displeasure. “You’ll be thanking me forever and a day when I get out you out of this mess.”

Murtagh only thrashed in answer. Thorn shook his head and ran two hands through his hair. He stood up, grabbed his knapsack, and walked out of the room. For once he was glad for the connection he had with Murtagh. He made sure to keep it open as he left the house. If anything happened, he wanted to be sure he would sense it.

**::OBSESSION::**

Eragon sat buried under his covers. Ever since he had woken up he had felt cold to the very cores of his body. He knew he was warm, but his whole body felt like it was stuck outside on the North Pole without any insulation. He shuddered and tugged the covers tighter around himself.

He couldn’t believe it. He hadn’t believed it yesterday either. It had to be some mistake. He couldn’t be that...that _bastard_ ’s mate!! He refused! ...He could refuse, couldn’t he? It was not like anything would happen to him if he refused. It was the vampire that needed him to live, not the other way around.

Eragon flinched when he remember the child in his belly. Could he live with the thought of having indirectly killed its other parent by refusing him? Eragon clenched his eyes shut in frustration. Absolutely nothing made sense anymore.

A knock on the door made him flinch in surprise. He called out for the other to enter, but didn’t come out from his cocoon. He was quite comfortable in it; there was no reason for him to surface.

...It didn’t matter that he had stayed there for the past eight hours; he was comfortable and he was staying there!

“Eragon, Thorn’s back,” Saphira’s voice penetrated the cocoon and brought him out of his thoughts.

“I don’t want to see him,” Eragon said meekly and curled up even more under the covers.

Saphira sighed tiredly.

“He says it’s urgent,” she said softly. “Please come out.”

The brunet clenched his eyes shut. Urgent could only mean one thing. **Fuck**. Eragon slowly got out of his cocoon and pulled the covers away. He met Saphira’s eyes before lowering his gaze to the floor. He slowly got up and started to walk across of the room. Saphira followed him, not urging him to go faster, simply walking beside him.

They found Thorn in the living room. Brom sat in his usual seat, chewing quite furiously on a toothpick. Aksel, who had been about to leave when Thorn had arrived, sat now in the other couch and was glaring at the redhead in front of him.

Saphira urged him to sit down, but Eragon shook his head. He didn’t want to sit down. He raised his chin and met Thorn’s gaze.

“Well?”

“He’s sick,” Thorn admitted mournfully. “Vanir says that it’s a ninety-five percent chance that you are his mate. It’s the best he could do. He has gotten the blood-fever during the night.”

“ ** _Morthor_** ,” Brom growled.

“What’s that?” Saphira asked softly.

“The blood-fever is something a vampire gets when they have found their mate, but haven’t fed off them since. It occurs faster if the vampire has been feeding off of others in the meantime,” Brom explained sourly. “It’s happening this fast because he’s been feeding off of two people a week. He has basically signed his death sentence; he’s just waiting for the reaper to sign on the other line.”

Eragon looked away with a hot flush on his cheeks. He wasn’t blushing, he knew that much, but there was obviously something going on within him. He reached down and rubbed his stomach unconsciously.

“What can you do?” Saphira asked the other hydra.

“All I can do is to bring Eragon over there and hope that he can wake him up,” Thorn said with a look of displeasure on his face.

“Bring me over to do...what?” Eragon asked quietly.

“He needs to drink some of your blood, and it needs to be fresh,” Thorn said with a slight scowl.

Eragon crossed his arms over his chest and slouched. His eyes were now firmly planted onto the floor.

“Nothing else?”

“No,” Thorn replied. “I’ll get you out of there as fast as I can. I’ll make sure he doesn’t find out that you’re pregnant or that you’re his mate, if I can prevent it. I’m going to have to ask you to donate a bit of blood over the next few months, so that he doesn’t fall sick again.”

“Because he can’t go near me, right?” Eragon asked with a fake smile.

Thorn nodded.

“I can try to break the news after your pregnancy is over, but not before then.”

“Why at all?!” Aksel asked loudly.

“Because whether they like it or not, my rider and Eragon are bonded. I won’t say mated, as that needs a conscious acceptance of the bond on both parts,” the redhead said and ran a tired hand through his hair. “If my rider is to survive, he needs to accept this bond. If Eragon’s kid is going to have a father, Eragon needs to be willing to give my rider a chance.”

“Giving us your rider’s name would be a start,” Brom muttered darkly.

Thorn clenched his teeth together.

“I will if you promise not to judge him,” he said bitterly.

“I already have a suspicion of who he might be. I can’t get more judging than I am right now,” Brom said with narrowed eyes.

Saphira simply nodded. Aksel snorted loudly and glared. Eragon didn’t even look up, just nodded.

“...His name is...” Thorn sighed. “His name is Murtagh.”

Brom sank even lower into his seat and continue to chew furiously on his toothpick.

“I knew it. He was far too alike that kid for me to dismiss it,” the older man said and rubbed his forehead tiredly.

“Kid? What kid?” Aksel asked confusedly.

Eragon wordlessly agreed to Aksel’s words.

“Murtagh is Morzan’s son, his only son,” Brom said and rubbed a hand over his eyes.

Saphira closed her eyes and muttered something under her breath. Aksel jumped up and started to shout random strings of profanities that often didn’t resemble sentences. Eragon just felt himself sink down under the words. He leaned onto the couch’s arm rest and gritted his teeth. He knew there was a reason Morzan had looked so familiar.

“Murtagh hated his father, he killed his father!” Thorn said loudly, effectively silencing Aksel’s string of curses. “Everything I’ve said about him is true. Yes, he’s a coldblooded killer, but all vampires are. It’s true that he’s killed the children he’s sired and the mothers, but only because he didn’t want anyone to go through the same thing he did.”

“Thorn, we believe you,” Saphira said and sighed sadly. “But it’s just...it’s Morzan’s son.”

“Murtagh is not his father,” Thorn growled. “Somewhere deep inside of his heart, there’s a light, a speck of good. I think that Eragon can bring that back out.”

“Why me?” Eragon asked brokenly.

“He spared you, and he told me himself that he didn’t know why. You’re the first he’s spared in ages.”

“Well, lucky me!” Eragon spat angrily. “I haven’t done anything to deserve this!!”

“...So you’re going to let him die? When he wakes up and you’re dead, he’ll die.” Thorn said coldly.

“Wakes up?” Saphira asked.

“He’s about to enter a coma. Vanir says he’ll wake up in about a hundred years if he does. Eragon will be long gone by then, and then he’ll die,” Thorn explained coldly.

Eragon flinched. His hand grasped tighter onto the fabric of the couch. Why did everything have to be so goddamn complicated?!

“I don’t know what to do anymore,” he said in a choked voice.

“You don’t have to donate. Just please come with me,” Thorn said and looked ready to sit down on his knees and beg. “He’s out; he won’t wake up if you come.”

“But you said -” Saphira started to say confusedly.

“The fever’s making sure he stays asleep. But it won’t be long until the coma takes over. He can still be woken up, but I need Eragon for that to happen,” Thorn explained. “Please.”

“...Do you promise that nothing will happen?” Eragon asked again and finally let their eyes meet.

Thorn bowed his head in a sign of respect. Then he looked back up.

“I swear.”

Eragon bit his lip. He shakily pushed himself away from the couch and tugged onto the sleeves of his sweater.

“Alright,” he murmured. “I’ll go.”

“I’m coming with you,” Saphira said sternly and stood up.

“Good,” Thorn said and gave them a half smile, half smirk. “But we need to leave now.”

Brom sighed bitterly.

“You guard that boy like he was your own, do you hear me?” he said darkly to the redhead. “If anything happens, you’ll have me after your blood.”

Thorn smirked.

“I promise, sir,” he said and nodded. “I’m afraid you’ll have to stay here though, chimera. I can’t make three people disappear from our hideout in time.”

Aksel cursed loudly and sat back down. Eragon had to smile slightly at the sight. Aksel saw this and suddenly got a determined look on his face. He stood up and strode over to the brunet. Then he leaned down and captured Eragon’s lips in a bruising kiss.

Before Eragon had the time to react Aksel had pulled away. The blond then nodded and sat down with a smug look on his face.

“Hey, you never know! He might be able to resist banging you when if he tastes me on your lips. You know, just in case the lizard can’t get you out of there fast enough,” he said and winked.

Eragon was tempted to punch Aksel’s lights out. Saphira just sighed and dragged him out of the room before he could. He swore to kick the blond’s ass when he came back instead. Now he had to focus on not freaking out. It wasn’t every day you were taken to a vampire’s hideout after all.

**::OBSESSION::**

Eragon looked at the house before him with critical eyes. He hadn’t seen a house like it outside of photographs. Most places like the one before him had been torn down and something new and fancy had been build over the ruins.

“Hadn’t it been for Murtagh’s illness, we would have been getting ready to leave,” Thorn said and led them into the house. “We rarely stay in one place in more than three weeks, a month if we feel that it’s safe.”

Saphira linked her arm in Eragon’s and slowly pulled him forward. Eragon had the urge to drag his heels into the ground, to see if she’d let him stay outside if he fought enough. But he had a feeling that she’d forcibly pull him inside if he tried.

Thorn led them deeper into the house. He explained that they were sleeping in different rooms ever since Murtagh’s nightmares had begun, so the vampire had then claimed the room in the farthest end of the house. The redhead came to a stop before a closed door. He pulled down the handle and opened it.

Eragon felt his eyes widen at the sight before him. On a very old and ragged bed in the other end of the room laid a figure. They only knew that it was alive thanks to the twitches that the figure came with every once in a while. Thorn winced and strode over to the bed.

“Murtagh, can you hear me?” he asked quietly.

Saphira pulled on his arm a little harder. Eragon slowly allowed himself to be led over to the knocked out vampire. Murtagh looked horrible; on the verge of dying even. His hair was soaked in sweat and even though he was sweating, there was no flush in his cheeks or in any other place. The skin under his eyes was almost black and his lips practically looked blue. Thorn leaned over and soaked a cloth into some cold water and laid it back onto the vampire’s forehead.

“How long does he have left?” Saphira asked quietly.

“Not long,” Thorn said stiffly. “He looks even worse than he did when I left him.”

Eragon couldn’t take his eyes away from him. He could remember the last time he had seen Murtagh. He had looked so alive. It was surreal to see him look so close to death. Eragon gulped and took another step forward. Murtagh let out a loud and pained groan.

“Well...that’s a first,” Thorn muttered quietly.

“What?” the blue eyed girl breathed.

“Nothing,” Thorn dismissed. “Eragon, what is your decision?”

Eragon licked his lips. He tried to picture the mean sadistic bastard he knew that Murtagh actually was, but all he could see was the sick and broken man before him. No matter how hard he tried, the picture of the smirking Murtagh going for the kill was being replaced by the dying version of the man.

“...How do I do it?” Eragon croaked.

Saphira’s eyes widened in shock. Thorn blinked in surprise, but was quicker to shake it away. He pulled out a pocket knife and held it out.

“Find a vein on your lower arm, not your wrist but maybe close to your elbow, and make a shallow cut. Then hold the cut over his lips and let him drink,” Thorn explained gently.

Eragon gulped. He took the knife out of Thorn’s hands and pulled up the sleeve on his left arm. His hand began to shake as he pulled out the blade.

“I can do it if -”

“No,” Eragon interrupted. “I’ll do it.”

Thorn shut his mouth. Saphira bit her lip and sent comforting thoughts over their link. Eragon gave her a shaky smile in gratitude. Then he let out a shaky breath and lowered the blade. And then, before he could change his mind, ran it over his skin of the underside of his arm.

“Shit,” he hissed in pain as a stream up blood quickly ran up to the surface.

“Quick, put it over his mouth,” Thorn instructed. “We’ll stay here to make sure he doesn’t wake up to do anything else.”

Eragon nodded sharply. Thorn stepped out of the way and allowed him to get closer to Murtagh’s head. Eragon tried to swallow down the panic and fear that was trying to take over, and knew that he didn’t quite succeed. Nonetheless he reached out and flipped his arm over so that the blood would start to drip onto Murtagh’s lips.

The first few drops fell without anything happening. Eragon was almost ready to back away when a pink tongue came forth and licked the lips. Eragon gulped and slowly lowered his arm.

“Bring it all the way to his lips, so that he can...suck,” Thorn said and Eragon could hear him wince.

Eragon tried to calm himself down by breathing through his nose. He lowered his arm until it was pressed gently against the lips. He gasped when the tongue came forth and licked his wound. He almost jumped back when the lips closed around it. And when an arm flew up to grasp onto his, Eragon cried out and tried to back away, but it was too late.

Murtagh’s eyes remained closed, but his hand was still firmly grasping into Eragon’s wrist as he sucked and occasionally flirted his tongue inside the wound. Eragon could feel himself getting dizzier and that his breathing was becoming much more laboured. A few minutes passed where Eragon almost started to count his breaths to make sure he was still conscious and alive.

“You can pull away now,” Thorn said and Eragon could sense him coming closer.

“How?!” Eragon hissed in panic.

Murtagh’s grip only seemed to tighten when Thorn came closer. When he reached out to help Eragon out, Murtagh’s other arm came up and pulled the brunet down onto the bed and flipped him to lie against the wall. Eragon let out a gasp of pain and closed a hand around the wound that was finally free from the vampire’s hold.

He looked up just in time to see Thorn glare at...the standing Murtagh?! Eragon felt his eyes widen in shock and panic. He was awake!?

“Murtagh -” Thorn growled.

Murtagh didn’t let him finish. Before the hydra could say another word, the vampire had crouched and pushed him away with all of his might, making him fly clear across of the room and almost out of the door. Then he grasped onto Saphira and threw her across of the room too. Eragon could only watch in shock as the vampire leaped across of the room and locked Saphira and Thorn out.

Eragon sat up and felt his heart speed up and began to pant in fear as the vampire turned to face him. In a second the vampire was standing before him, having crossed the room so fast that Eragon fell backwards when he noticed it.

Murtagh’s eyes were open now, their colour a black-red shine that Eragon could remember only too well. The smirk on Murtagh’s lips only looked worse from the smear of blood in the corner of his mouth. The vampire slowly licked his lips and grinned evilly. His teeth looked to be practically caressing his bottom lip, but it didn’t make them look any less dangerous.

“Hello again, Eragon,” Murtagh said huskily. “This is certainly a nice surprise.”

Eragon couldn’t do anything else than to gulp. He was screwed.

**::OBSESSION::**

“Well, I guess a thanks is in order,” Murtagh drawled, though he still hadn’t come any closer.

That didn’t stop Eragon from trying to press his way through the wall, however.

“Without you, I would surely have been on my way to la-la land right now,” Murtagh smirked. “How can I ever repay you?”

“By letting me go?” Eragon suggested.

The vampire chuckled.

“Oh no, not when I have you all to myself.”

“What did you do with Saphira?!” Eragon exclaimed.

Suddenly he had a feeling that Murtagh might have done something more to them than to just throw them out of the room.

“Nothing, nothing...I just knocked Thorn out,” Murtagh replied with a smirk. “I always bolt my door and Thorn’s the only one who can get through those bolts. So, until he wakes up, you’re all mine.”

“Let me go. You’re alright again now, just let me go,” Eragon said and winced when he heard his voice waver.

Murtagh’s smirk widened.

“No can do. Do you have any idea how much I’ve craved for you, longed for you since the last time I saw you?” he purred. “Of course you don’t. And now you’re here, on your own free will at that. How can I not take advantage of that?”

“Please don’t kill me.”

Murtagh tipped his head back and laughed.

“Oh my, are you begging now?” he sniggered. “This is too good to be true.”

“You know Thorn will kill you if you kill me,” Eragon snapped.

He was trying to get back his senses, his self-control, but it was proving to be very hard. No matter what he tried to do, the only thing his mind could focus on was panicking.

“I know,” Murtagh sighed. “Which is why I won’t be killing you...yet.”

Eragon’s eyes widened in shock. Before he could ask just what Murtagh planned to do, the vampire leaned over and captured his lips. Eragon tried to struggle, but Murtagh simply laid him down and sat down on top of him, effectively keeping him down. Eragon suddenly remembered Aksel and his other kiss that day, but by then it was too late. The vampire pulled back with a dark look on his face.

“So you have a boyfriend now?” he drawled with a sneer. “A chimera one at that?”

Eragon wasn’t able to deny or confirm it. He was too busy staring at the fangs that seemed more pronounced than they had done only minutes before.

“Well, too bad, because right now you’re mine.”

The brunet opened his mouth to protest, but Murtagh only took advantage of that by sticking his tongue into Eragon’s mouth. And no matter how hard Eragon tried to get away, to tell himself that he should feel disgusted, he could slowly feel himself giving in. And that only made him hate Murtagh more. And as if Murtagh had heard him, he smirked smugly into the kiss.

“Atta boy,” he said as he ended the kiss. “We’ve been through this before. Just give in and it’ll all feel better in the end.”

“I hate you,” Eragon growled.

“And I don’t blame you,” Murtagh said with a smirk before he leaned down to shut Eragon up once again.

Eragon fisted his hands into the bedding as he felt Murtagh deepen the kiss once again. He was practically getting devoured! But that didn’t mean he was going to kiss back.

Murtagh effectively killed that thought when he sneaked a hand up Eragon’s sweater and brushed against his nipples. Eragon groaned and couldn’t help but to respond when a tongue brushed against his. He slowly started to kiss back and cursed himself as he did so. The vampire grinned wider and pulled back his hand to grasp onto the sweater. He pulled back for only a second to tug the material off Eragon’s body. The cold seemed to immediately set in. And no matter how much Eragon wanted to push Murtagh off his body, his hands stayed frozen by his side, even after having been lifted to get the sweater off him.

When the vampire leaned down to lick and kiss his neck, the warmth seemed to slowly return. Despite his earlier sickness, Murtagh was quickly starting to look healthy again. He was even getting warmer! Eragon thrashed a bit when Murtagh seemed to get extra eager with licking and nibbling the vein on his neck. Murtagh sniggered and licked his way down the neck and down to the nipples.

Eragon cried out when Murtagh started to lick one. For some reason they were horribly sensitive, but not a bad kind of sensitive. Murtagh didn’t seem bothered or alarmed by it, and Eragon breathed an inward sigh of relief. Because he knew what it was all leading up to. And if Murtagh even as much as started to suspect Eragon was carrying, he would be killed in a second.

The vampire seemed to be displeased by his lack of response and started to palm the brunet through his pants. Eragon bucked into the touch and continued to scream curses in his mind.

Murtagh continued to pay attention to his nipples as he stuck a hand into Eragon’s pants and grasped onto the hardness he found there. Eragon bit his lip to keep himself from crying out. He fleetingly thought of Saphira and Thorn and hoped they were okay. Then he wondered what the hell was taking them so long. He was about to get raped, for fuck’s sake!

Before he knew what had happened, Murtagh had flipped him over and pulled down his pants. Eragon felt his eyes widen as he felt something wet and slippery brush against his hole. He blushed and cried out as the vampire started to prepare him. Seriously, hadn’t the guy heard of hygiene?!

“You think too much,” Murtagh drawled. “I’ll put a stopper to that.”

With that said he slammed two fingers inside of him. Eragon tensed and cried out in pain. _Fucking sadistic bastard_ , he screamed in his mind.

But unfortunately Murtagh was good at what he did; too good even. It wasn’t long before Eragon could feel himself panting and crying out for a different reason. Murtagh’s other hand had sneaked around him and was palming his erection again. Eragon panted harshly into his arms, which was all he had to keep himself steady on the mattress. His knees were about to give out, he could feel it.

The world tilted again as Murtagh flipped him over. A second later Murtagh had tugged off his own pants and was leaning over Eragon again. Eragon glared up at him and Murtagh smirked back. The brunet refused to clutch onto Murtagh as the other entered him, and therefore was stuck clutching tightly onto the bedding. And this time the dark haired man didn’t wait for Eragon to adjust; he picked up a pace right away.

Eragon cursed out loud.

“That’s the spirit,” Murtagh smirked. “Curse me, hate me.”

Eragon let him know just how much he hated him with his eyes. It was creepy to look into Murtagh’s blackened orbs, but Eragon was determined to get his message across.

Murtagh halted his thrusts to throw Eragon’s legs over his shoulders. Eragon felt his eyes widen with panic. He swung out his fist to hit Murtagh in protest, but the vampire caught it easily. Murtagh caught the other one as well and held them firmly above Eragon’s head. Eragon cursed loudly when the vampire was able to hold him down with just one hand. Murtagh raised an eyebrow, but didn’t comment. But all Eragon could think about was the child within him that now possibly could be in danger.

Murtagh used the other arm to support himself before he started his pace again. Eragon tried to buck out of his hold, but the grip remained tight. If anything, Murtagh leaned over him even further to press him more down onto the mattress.

Eragon panted harshly as he felt the surges of pleasure run through him. He gritted his teeth together to not cry out. Murtagh glared and upped his speed. A choked scream was torn from the brunet’s lips. Murtagh leaned down and whispered in Eragon’s ear, his voice husky and dark as he did so.

“I want to hear you scream.”

And Eragon screamed.

He could feel his climax approaching, but felt the panic return tenfold when Murtagh buried his face in his neck. Eragon tried to buck the other off him, but Murtagh remained where he was. If anything, he started to lick and kiss his neck again, and yet his harsh tempo didn’t falter.

“You fucking bastard,” Eragon growled and clenched his eyes shut.

Murtagh just chuckled.

And then his climax hit. Eragon screamed for all he was worth. Murtagh’s fangs scraped over the skin as he groaned throatily into Eragon’s neck, his climax finally having been reached as well.

For a while neither moved. Eragon panted harshly and tried to organize his steadily panicking mind. He wasn’t succeeding however.

Murtagh started to pull back slowly. Eragon prepared himself for the bite and pain, but nothing came. Then he could no longer feel the vampire’s weight on him, and his legs fell onto the mattress. He opened his eyes and sat up.

The vampire yawned and straightened his shirt; his pants had already been pulled up. Eragon flushed angrily and started to get dressed despite the pain and ache in his body. He had just finished putting on his sweater when the door was kicked in.

Eragon glared darkly at the red haired hydra. Saphira entered after him and glared right at the vampire. Murtagh just chuckled.

“Well, it was nice seeing you all,” he said simply. “Do come again.”

Thorn growled threateningly. If anything, it only seemed to amuse Murtagh more. Eragon scowled and got ready to walk away. Before he could take more than two steps, Murtagh appeared before him. He saw Thorn and Saphira storm forward out of the corner of his eye, but his focus remained on Murtagh, in particular his eyes. They were hazel again.

Murtagh leaned down and landed a possessive kiss on the brunet’s lips. Then he smirked and suddenly was gone. Eragon turned around in confusion, and saw a livid Thorn leap forward to throw a laughing Murtagh out of the window. Saphira took advantage of the confusion to grasp onto Eragon’s arm and drag him out of the room.

Eragon let himself be pulled and set the pace into a run as they exited the house. He couldn’t stop himself from looking over his shoulder one last time, though. And just before he lost sight of the house, he could have sworn to have seen a pair of eyes watching him leave.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> **Andelan Vocabulary:**  
>  _Andelan_ – A language that is also called “Old Tongue”.  
>  _Jhan kar noil weth ak. Jhan dorkanen yat sin kogen kir jhun. Grall il!_ – means “He is not worth it. He deserves what is coming for him. Tell them!”  
>  _Ponal_ – The word for “magician”  
>  _Morthor_ – A swear word. Means “fuck”


	6. Harassing

**Notes for the Chapter:**

>  ** _Word_** – word written in my language Andelan
> 
> _-Speech.-_ Eragon/Saphira, Murtagh/Thorn and Thorn/Saphira talking to each other mentally.

_::July to September::_

Murtagh hadn’t felt so alive in years. In fact, he couldn’t remember the last time he had felt so full of life. And it was unusually strange for one of his kind to actually feel the blood pumping in his veins. And he craved more. But first he had something to take care of.

“I’M GOING TO KILL YOU!” Thorn roared after him.

Murtagh laughed loudly and jumped up to the roof. While the rain had stopped while he had been sleeping, it was still slippery and wet. But Murtagh didn’t care. Well, apart from the fact that it would keep him safe from the very enraged hydra that remained on the ground.

“What’d I do now?” Murtagh shouted.

Thorn looked ready to pop a vein.

“You sadistic, abusive, heathenish, freakish, fucking cold-hearted bastard!” the redhead shouted loudly.

The vampire chuckled to himself. Oh yeah, Thorn wasn’t pleased at all.

“I’m going tear you to pieces, then I’m going to cut those pieces into smaller pieces, then I’m going to gather them and set them on fire! And then I’m going put the ashes into a box and throw it into the deepest part of the ocean I can find!! And then I hope a fugly fish swallows it, because it’s no more than you deserve, asshole!”

Murtagh had to give it to him; Thorn could be pretty imaginative when he was angry. But he supposed he deserved it, not that he was going to admit that to Thorn.

“You should be bowing down before that kid for showing you the mercy and saving your life!!” Thorn yelled and looked just about ready to get up there and kick the life out of his rider.

The hazel eyed man winced. If that happened, he would have a really nasty fall. And he’d rather not be stuck with that job of healing himself. So he took the easier way out; he jumped down to face his friend.

“I didn’t ask the kid to save me,” Murtagh said and raised an eyebrow. “In fact, what makes you think I wanted to be saved in the first place?”

“The world doesn’t spin around you, _Murtagh_ ,” Thorn spat.

“Um yes, I know that,” Murtagh drawled. “But what has that got to do with anything? Don’t tell me you’d miss me if I died?”

The vampire laughed harshly and crossed his arms. Thorn simply continued to give him the darkest glare he could muster.

“I have no obligation to tell you my reasons,” the redhead drawled back. “But if you step near that kid again, so help me God, I will kill you. This I promise you.”

Murtagh fell silent. He tilted his head and looked at Thorn with a critical eye.

“You know what?” the darker haired man said. “I actually believe you this time.”

Thorn’s arm shot forward too quickly for Murtagh to react. He felt the fingers clench around his throat and winced when the air was cut off from his lungs. Fuck, not again, Murtagh thought and rolled his eyes.

“ _Good_ ,” Thorn snarled. “Because this time I mean it.”

**::OBSESSION::**

Eragon sat on the couch in Brom’s living room and watched the older man pace back and forth while muttering darkly. Saphira had given up trying to talk to him ten minutes ago, but Aksel was still poking him occasionally, trying to get him spill what had happened.

Ever since Saphira had gotten him back to the house, Eragon hadn’t said one word. He hadn’t been able to really think straight since escaping the vampire’s hold. There was something that was bugging him, several things in fact. Murtagh hadn’t bitten him; that was one thing that both relieved and scared him. Had he been full, or had he suspected that Eragon was carrying? No, had he suspected Eragon knew he would have been dead by now. Another thing that was worrying was the fact that Murtagh had kissed him like he was staking a claim; like he was his. He really hoped that Thorn would just come back, get some blood from him, and then ship Murtagh off to Antarctica or some other remote place!

And then there was the final thing that the brunet couldn’t forget. He wasn’t cold anymore.

“Son, what happened?” Brom asked gruffly.

Eragon looked up and blinked tiredly.

“When we were leaving, Murtagh kissed him,” Saphira said softly and Eragon could just imagine her biting her lip. “...And I don’t think that’s all he did to him.”

“Son of a bitch!” Brom roared. “Eragon, tell me what he did.”

“It wasn’t Thorn’s fault,” the brunet said softly. “He threw Saphira and him out before Thorn could do anything to get us out of there.”

“If I’m going to blame anyone, Eragon, it’s the goddamn _**bloyean**_ ,” Brom said roughly. “Tell me.”

“He...” Eragon paused. “We...he took me.”

The room fell into a tense silence.

“Took? Like...” Aksel trailed off in an uncharacteristically sombre tone.

“Raped,” the brunet said nonchalantly. “Or semi-raped, I guess you could call it.”

Brom punched the wall beside him and roared in anger. Saphira and Aksel jumped in their seats while Eragon didn’t even flinch.

“I ought to kill that bastard,” the older man growled.

“Ought to? I am!” Aksel exclaimed angrily.

Eragon just remained silent. He didn’t know what to say to that. Saphira bit her lip and grabbed his arm, lightly tugging in it to try to get his attention. Eragon looked up tiredly.

“Come, we need to talk,” she said softly. “Excuse us for a moment.”

Eragon didn’t bother to look at the others while Saphira dragged him out of the room. She closed the door and turned to look at him.

“What’s going on?”

“Nothing. Murtagh took advantage of me, like usual,” he answered brokenly. “I just want to -”

“You’re not giving up,” Saphira hissed firmly. “Don’t even think about it!”

Eragon felt silent.

“There was something off about him, though,” the blue eyed girl continued. “He looked awfully possessive.”

“Aksel’s plan backfired,” Eragon said and shrugged.

Saphira pursed her lips.

“That’s why he kissed you?” she asked.

“That’s why he fucked me in the first place,” the brunet said quietly. “At least, he mentioned that he could taste Aksel on me. He said that it didn’t matter, that I was his right there and then regardless if I had a boyfriend or not.”

Saphira’s eyes lit up in thought.

“What else did he say?”

“That he had longed and craved for me since the last time he saw me,” Eragon said and sighed. “If you’re trying to prove that he’s my mate, welcome to the club. I already know that he is.”

“How?” she murmured softly.

“I’m not cold anymore.”

Saphira’s eyes widened. She reached out and took his hand, frowning as she held it in her grasp.

“Then why were you cold in the first place?” she asked.

“Something to do about consenting to the bond? I dunno...” Eragon looked away.

“Have you?”

Eragon looked down at the floor, unable to look at his friend anymore.

“I haven’t checked yet. But maybe since I allowed him to drink my blood, claim me, maybe I have,” he whispered harshly.

“You aren’t officially mates until he acknowledges the bond,” Saphira said hurriedly. “Which -”

“Is never going to happen,” Eragon interrupted. “I’m not allowing myself to fall for a vampire, and neither am I allowing him to kill my child. He can go and die for all I care!”

Eragon’s voice echoed slightly as he finished in a loud and slightly panicked voice. Saphira looked at him sadly, her hand never having let go of his. She squeezed it comfortingly.

“But you do care, or you wouldn’t have come today,” the hydra said in a soft whisper.

Eragon squeezed his eyes shut. He was trying not to remember that everything that had happened had been his own fault, no matter how indirectly.

“I don’t want to talk about this anymore,” he said hoarsely.

“Eragon, I’m not saying that you love him! But I am saying that you care about what happens to him, because of the life you two created,” Saphira said and tried to meet his eyes, but Eragon forced himself to look away.

“He can go and spear himself on a stake for all I care,” the brunet said tensely.

Saphira sighed sadly.

“Eragon, he needs you to live,” she argued.

“Correction, he needs my _blood_ ,” Eragon growled. “And why are you defending him? If you want to go and live with Thorn, be my guest!”

Saphira flinched away from him. Eragon cursed himself and his inability to think before talking.

“My place is with you, Eragon,” she said tensely. “Thorn and I have both accepted the fact that we can never pursue a relationship, all for the sake of you two.”

“...I’m sorry, Saphira, I shouldn’t have said that,” he apologized softly.

The blue haired girl shook her head.

“It’s alright, Eragon. You’ve been through a lot today, and you have a lot of emotions and hormones inside of you. We all need to let go once in a while,” she said and sent him a comforting smile. “But please, just talk to me next time before you reach the point where you blow up.”

Eragon sent her a half-smile.

“I don’t deserve a friend like you.”

Saphira snorted.

“No, you don’t,” she agreed. “But I’m staying anyway.”

_-Thank you,-_ he whispered mentally.

Saphira merely winked in answer.

“Now, let’s get you back inside.”

“Do I have to? Brom is about to pop and Aksel is driving me nuts!” Eragon whined.

Saphira giggled, but didn’t answer. Eragon moaned and prepared himself to calm down two equally pigheaded men.

**::OBSESSION::**

For the next two months Thorn would stop by during the last weekend of the month, Eragon would donate a little blood, he would ask how Eragon was doing, chat a bit with Saphira and then the redhead would leave again. All of this took approximately one hour, giving Thorn just enough time to catch the next train. The brunet could see how much it pained Saphira to see him go, but he could also see that she understood Thorn’s reasons. Eragon however would become worried and jumpy whenever Thorn was due to arrive, and each weekend he would wake up thinking that his final day had finally come, and that Murtagh was there to kill him.

Eragon was very thankful that he had Saphira as a friend. Whenever he’d wake up from one of his nightmares, she’d hold him close and sit there with him until he calmed down. He had no idea what he’d done to deserve such a good friend, but he was very glad he had her.

The brunet had started to stay indoors more. Even though the sun was shining brightly and September had started, he had sworn to never go outside unless he had to. For now that he was five months pregnant, it was more than beginning to show. While there was only a slight lump there that told of his pregnancy, Eragon refused to wear anything that wasn’t baggy – t-shirts, sweaters and pants alike. He did however refuse to go and buy maternity, or paternity as Saphira had called it, clothes. He wasn’t going outside of the front door even if Brom forced him.

What Eragon was happy about was that he had finally passed the first trimester. Because after having seen Murtagh, he had steadily become more attached to the child and therefore scared for its safety. Now that the chances of a miscarriage were heavily reduced, although Eragon couldn’t see how he, as a male, could miscarry, other reasons for feeling frightened had surfaced.

“Eragon.”

Eragon jumped. He turned around and grinned sheepishly.

“Sorry,” Saphira apologised and sat down beside him. “I didn’t realise you were so lost in your thoughts.”

“Nah, it’s okay,” Eragon replied. “It was probably good that you got me out of those thoughts.”

Eragon shifted to face his friend more. His hands were tucked into the pocket on his hoodie, and as usual they were gently caressing the small lump that the material covered. The child had started to move a few weeks before, the last time Thorn had been visiting in fact, and had scared both Eragon and Thorn. The hydra had jumped up and fallen down to the floor while Eragon had stared down at his stomach in shock. To draw blood, Thorn used a medical kit and always used a vein on Eragon’s arm. That day however he had somehow come in contact with Eragon’s stomach and the child had reacted.

Now it moved on a regular basis, much to the excitement of the girls that Eragon always seemed to find himself surrounded with. Arya and Nasuada practically hadn’t stopped visiting when they had heard the news.

“Thinking of _him_ again?” Saphira asked.

Eragon fell silent. He gently stroked his stomach and smiled sadly when something moved under his hand. Saphira smiled back.

“It’s hard not to. Thorn’s due to return soon. You know how I get then,” Eragon said quietly.

Saphira’s eyes turned sad. Eragon sent apologetic thoughts that Saphira replied to in kind. It seemed that it was hard for both of them to stay positive with so many things happening all at once.

“Do you regret not going back to school?” Eragon asked softly.

“Nah,” the blue eyed girl replied. “I’d much rather be here and look after you.”

The brunet smiled his thanks. Saphira’s eyes twinkled slightly.

“How about you?”

Eragon shrugged.

“I couldn’t have. I’d have to quit after Christmas, and that would just be a wasted semester. Besides...” he trailed off. “I’d rather this stay a secret. Going to school every day would be like begging him to find out.”

“But not going outside at all isn’t healthy,” Saphira scolded.

“Hey! I do open the window every now and then,” Eragon protested.

The hydra snorted.

“And that’s better how?” she drawled.

Eragon just pouted. Saphira let out a quiet giggle.

“It’s just that...I’m scared,” Eragon whispered a few minutes later. “I’m scared that if I step out, he’ll find me.”

“Thorn’s keeping tabs on where they are, and he lets us know if they’re anywhere close to Carvahall,” Saphira said soothingly and pulled him into a hug. “Right now they’re in Teirm, remember?”

Eragon sighed and leaned into her embrace.

“How is Thorn supposed to get away unnoticed then?”

“He’s been doing it this far, hasn’t he?” Saphira said softly. “The train doesn’t take that long, and if he makes sure that Murtagh’s asleep before he goes, he can get back in time for him to wake up.”

“It’ll look suspicious after a while, though,” the brunet said quietly.

“Yeah, it will. And it isn’t healthy for him to sleep during the day,” Saphira commented.

“I thought vampires usually slept during the day,” Eragon said confused.

“Usually they do, but Thorn told me, even though I think he didn’t mean to, that Murtagh sleeps during the night now,” Saphira said and bit her lip. “He’s been taking the night train all this time. Don’t tell me you haven’t noticed?”

“Um...” Eragon trailed off.

“Thorn spends about half a day travelling back and forth. He schedules this when he knows Murtagh will be out...hunting. And so far Murtagh’s been hunting in the early evenings, meaning that Thorn needs to be home when Murtagh gets back. He can only go when Murtagh has gone to sleep,” Saphira paused. “You really didn’t notice?”

Eragon shook his head softly.

“Is it your insomnia?” Saphira sighed. “Are you sure you don’t want to take any medication?”

“I’m sure,” Eragon replied. “One; I hate the taste of pills, and two; I can’t swallow them for the life of me.”

Saphira let out a small giggle. For some reason this made Eragon start to laugh. A few moments later they were both laughing almost hysterically loud, Eragon with a few tears in his eyes.

“It’s been so long since I last heard you laugh,” she commented after the laughter died down.

“Yeah,” Eragon sighed. “I don’t have a lot to laugh about these days.”

“I know, honey, I know.”

**::OBSESSION::**

Thorn came that same weekend. Eragon, who hadn’t been able to sleep that night, let him in around four a.m. and let Thorn get to work. The brunet took off his hooded jacket and watched Thorn get to work.

The hydra always had a pouch that he tied to his waist, and from it he took out a medical needle and a tube and attached the two together. Then he took out two empty blood-bags that without a doubt had been stolen from a clinic. Thorn then attached the tube to the first of the bags and turned to Eragon’s arm.

Eragon wanted to look away, but he always had trouble doing so. Saphira had claimed that he had something she called ‘train-wreck syndrome’. She explained that since he was unable to look away from freakish things, such as a needle being stuck into his arm, it fit under the category of being unable to look away from accidents, such as train-wrecks. Eragon had simply shrugged and gone back to his own business.

“You know you should sleep, right?” Thorn said quietly as he tied a rubber band around Eragon’s upper arm.

“Huh?” Eragon breathed. “Oh, yeah...I just can’t.”

Thorn sighed. He found a vein and Eragon winced when the needle was treaded in. Then the brunet continued to watch his blood seep out and into the small bag at the end of the tube.

“Have you thought about -”

“Medication? Yeah,” Eragon replied. “But I can’t swallow pills, so...”

Thorn snorted. He looked up and crocked an eyebrow.

“What do you do then?” he asked.

“Do stuff until I’m tired enough to sleep,” the brunet replied. “I usually go to sleep around...uh, now.”

Thorn let out a bark like laugh. Then he looked back down and changed the bag in a quick and practiced manner.

“I’m sure that Saphira’s thrilled with you,” the hydra commented dryly.

“Yes, very,” Eragon agreed in similar fashion.

They sat in silence until the second bag was filled up. Eragon straightened up and waited for Thorn to stop the flow. To his surprise, Thorn pulled out a third bag and connected it to the end of the tube. Eragon felt a small stab of panic enter him.

“Thorn?”

“I can’t afford to take any chances,” Thorn said gruffly. “We’re in Tierm now, but who knows where we’ll go next? If we head south, then I need a little extra in case it takes me longer to get back here. If back at all until we move again.”

Eragon bit his lip.

“What’s the farthest you’ve gone?” he asked softly.

“From Carvahall?” Thorn looked up. “We’ve been all the way to Feinster once. We’ve never gone to Surda or any of the mountain or forest cities as we’re more likely to be recognized as foreigners there. But usually we never go further than to Urû’baen.”

Eragon nodded absently. Thorn tied up the last bag and took the needle gently out of Eragon’s arm. The brunet winced and tied the prepared bandage around the wound. Then he bent his arm so that his curled fingers rested under his chin.

“You might feel a little dizzier than usual, and for that I apologize,” Thorn said and sighed. “You have no idea how grateful I am that you’re doing this.”

Eragon looked away and buried his chin deeper into the back of his hand.

“Is he any better at all?” he asked hoarsely.

“A little late to ask that, don’t you think? But...yes, yes he is,” Thorn replied and packed away his things. “No signs of a relapse or that he knows. Murtagh’s very good at being in denial, though.”

Eragon smiled sadly.

“Of course, right now that’s a good thing,” the red haired man said and yawned.

“So, no progress in the ‘converting project’?” Eragon asked with a fake smile.

“...I wouldn’t say no progress,” Thorn murmured. “Though I am surprised you’re asking me this.”

“Well, I just want to know if I should move to Surda or something, just in case he will never warm up to the idea of not killing me for this,” Eragon said dryly.

Thorn fell silent. Eragon turned to look at him. The hydra’s lips were pursed and he looked almost a little sceptic.

“Well, the ‘converting project’ as you called it, is a delicate procedure,” Thorn explained finally. “First I need to make him believe that he’s not his father. While he’s fighting tooth and nail to be as different from Morzan as he can, he’s actually making himself more and more like the man by doing so. But I’ve started to try to make him see that having a mate isn’t such a bad thing.”

Thorn smacked his lips. Eragon curled himself further into the couch and listened on.

“I could have started with the kid factor, but I just know that would make Murtagh flinch away even further. If he warms up to the idea of having a mate, then I maybe I can make him see that he won’t become his father, especially since his kid won’t be a vampire and it won’t be the same at all. Then maybe he’ll see that it won’t be his own personal nightmare happening before his eyes.”

Eragon gulped away the lump that had risen in his throat.

“And while he felt possessive of you that time I took you to see him...” Thorn crossed his arms. “He’s nowhere accepting enough of having a mate for him to see you again. He might go crazy.”

“Why?” Eragon asked quietly.

“He thinks you’re dating a chimera,” Thorn told him bluntly. “If he finds out that you’re pregnant, he’s going to assume it’s the chimera’s kid. And then he’ll go on a rampage, no matter how much he’ll deny the link between you and the massacre later.”

The brunet shuddered and curled even more into himself. He didn’t like what he was hearing, not one bit.

“Isn’t there any way I can hide this from him?” Eragon asked in a choked voice. “Just in case he decides to come here again and I’m still...”

Thorn sighed tiredly.

“There might be, but that would take an awful lot of energy from Saphira in order for her to cast that spell. When I erased Murtagh’s name from your memory, it only took me a small amount of energy. But Saphira would have to shield your kid’s vitals for a longer amount of time. That drains your strength pretty quickly,” the redhead shook his head. “I wouldn’t do it unless there was no way around it.”

Eragon nodded slowly.

“Oh...would you like to talk to Saphira?” Eragon asked; feeling a little embarrassed at his own forgetfulness.

“If she’s asleep, I’d rather not wake her.”

“I’m awake.”

Eragon smiled as Thorn turned around in shock. Eragon greeted Saphira with a nod which the blue eyed girl returned with a smile.

“Hey, you,” Saphira said softly.

“Hey,” Thorn replied.

Eragon let out a quiet laugh. He stood sluggishly and hugged his bandaged arm closer to himself.

“I think I’ll go to sleep now. Night.”

He didn’t care that he didn’t get any real response from any of them. For once he was just glad he could do something for the both of them. They deserved some time alone, and Eragon was more than happy to give that to them.

**::OBSESSION::**

Saphira felt tears build up in her eyes as Thorn hugged her. It had only been a month since they had last seen each other, but it seemed like so much longer.

“I’m sorry,” Thorn murmured into her hair. “I’m so sorry for putting you and Eragon through this.”

“Shush, it’s not your fault,” Saphira scolded softly. “We’ll just have to make the best out of this.”

Thorn clutched her even tighter against him and Saphira felt herself relax by the sound of his heartbeat.

“This would all have been so much easier if I hadn’t had a bastard for a rider,” Thorn growled.

“Your rider wouldn’t have been himself if he hadn’t been a bastard,” Saphira commented.

Thorn just snorted. The blue eyed girl blinked. That hadn’t sounded like a typical snort. She pulled back slightly. Thorn gazed down into her eyes and she let out a soft yelp when Thorn sat down and pulled her into his lap.

“What?” she asked. “Is something wrong?”

“There’s something I didn’t tell Eragon,” he confessed. “I wasn’t even sure if I should tell you, but I can’t keep it to myself anymore.”

“What?”

Thorn reached up and gently caressed her cheek. While she loved the gesture, she narrowed her eyes to let him know he wasn’t getting away that easily.

_-Thorn, tell me,-_ she whispered.

_-I...I don’t think Murtagh’s been feeding off of people since his near-coma incident,-_ Thorn confessed finally.

Saphira felt her eyes widen in shock.

_-What? What does that mean?-_

_-I’m not sure,-_ Thorn frowned. _-Since I can’t tell for sure, I don’t want to make any assumptions. And I can’t very well ask him either!-_

Saphira bit her lip. The redhead started to mumble things under his breath and his eyes glazed over. She took in the sight and memorized it with a soft smile. Then she slowly leaned forward and initiated their first kiss.

Thorn froze for a split second. Then his eyes became alive again and Saphira gasped when she felt herself practically being devoured. She closed her eyes and leaned in further. Thorn cradled her head with his hands and kissed her with such passion that her head was spinning. Then slowly he began to soften the kiss, until he was merely pecking her. Saphira moaned when he pulled back. Thorn smirked.

_-That is one way to get a man’s attention.-_

She laughed softly.

_-I’m glad it worked,-_ she said and winked. _-But you were saying?-_

_-Right,-_ Thorn paused. _–I wanted your opinion on this. If he’s not feeding off of someone else, merely taking the blood that I’m giving to him, do you think that means he’s starting to accept the idea that he’s mated?-_

_-Well, what story are you serving him...with that blood that is?-_ Saphira asked.

Thorn leaned back and crossed his arms. Saphira leaned back to rest more comfortably on his thighs and rested her hands in her lap.

_-I say that it’s a control sample that Vanir’s providing me, that it’s a blood type he won’t react to according to Vanir and his ‘tests’. That’s when Murtagh starts to tease me for showing that I care. But even so...he takes the blood without complaining,-_ he explained.

_-Can he...-_ Saphira paused, but forced herself to carry on. _-Do you think he can taste that it’s Eragon?-_

Thorn blinked.

_-Huh, I’ve never actually thought of that before,-_ he said and frowned. _-But he hasn’t asked me who it’s from, so...argh, I hate that confusing bastard!-_

Saphira let out a soft giggle.

_-He hasn’t asked you where you go either?-_

_-No,-_ Thorn said and let out a relieved sigh. _-I won’t go as far as to say he hasn’t noticed, but he hasn’t asked me yet.-_

_-If he asks, what will you answer?-_ the blue eyed girl asked timidly.

_-I could say that I have a job, but Murtagh’s too smart to buy that lie. I could say that I’m visiting you, but that’s my last resort. I have been thinking about saying that I visit Vanir because I need to collect the blood and perhaps bug him about why Murtagh got sick.-_

_-I’d go with that last one,-_ Saphira said and bit her lip. _-You do go to get blood, just not from who you say you’re getting it from.-_

_-It is the option that I like the most,-_ Thorn agreed. _-And thankfully Vanir stays in one place, so he can understand that I need to travel back and forth to visit him.-_

Saphira nodded her head.

Suddenly Thorn let out a laugh. Saphira frowned softly.

“What?”

“Nothing,” he chuckled. “Well, it’s the first time we’ve seen each other in a month, and we’re talking about our riders.”

Saphira smiled softly in understanding.

“Well, we are hydras,” she said softly. “It is only to be expected.”

Thorn shrugged.

Saphira leaned forward and smiled when she felt his arms close around her again. She curled up under his jaw and sighed.

“When will we see each other again?” she breathed.

“In a month if we’re lucky,” Thorn said huskily.

Saphira closed her eyes and focused just on the feel of being held. She didn’t like the thought of not knowing when she’d be able to curl up in his arms again.

“Do you know where you’re going next?” she asked.

“No,” Thorn sighed. “He never lets me in on where we’re going. I’ve tried and tried, but it’s almost like he decides on an impulse where we’re going. I can never tell.”

The blue haired female chewed slightly on her bottom lip.

“I’ll miss you,” she whispered.

“And I you.”

But they still continued to sit and savour being in each other’s arms. They shared one last kiss before Saphira watched him go, her heart seeming almost heavier this time around. She let out a shaky breathe before sending out a prayer that she’d see him again in a month.

**::OBSESSION::**

Murtagh sat in the dark. He had always been able to think better when it was dark around him.

Thorn had been gone for nearly twelve hours. And according to the hydra’s schedule he was due to come back soon. Murtagh had been speculating where Thorn went off to once a month. Thorn might think that he didn’t notice, though Murtagh doubted that, but the vampire instantly noticed when he left the house.

So far Murtagh hadn’t gone as far as to actually follow Thorn. The hydra had never followed him on any of his hunts, even in Carvahall, so he figured that Thorn deserved the same respect. For even though they didn’t get along; Murtagh respected Thorn like no other.

But whenever he left, Murtagh would start to think. The redhead had said that he got the blood Murtagh now drank from Vanir. It was likely that Thorn was visiting the magician, but somehow Murtagh doubted that. Even though Vanir lived in Ceunon, something Murtagh wondered was because Vanir was a half elf or simply because he was impossibly anti-social, it somehow seemed unlikely. There was something inside of him that whispered that Thorn left for another reason all together. Too bad it wouldn’t tell him what that reason could be.

For a split second, Murtagh considered to call Vanir. A second later he burst out in laughter. Vanir would likely get a heart attack if he called. Murtagh smirked at the thought. Now it really tempted him to do so, just out of spite.

The hazel eyed man got up and stretched. He moaned as his back let out a satisfying crack.

He had also wondered if Thorn perhaps was visiting Saphira. If he was, then he could be doing so on the way to Vanir. But Murtagh was still unsure. He could ask Thorn, but he snorted at the idea. Thorn was far more likely to lie to him than to tell him the truth.

Murtagh crocked his head when he heard the front door open. He smirked and decided to join Thorn that day.

“Good morning, my friend! Was the hunt successful?” Murtagh asked cheerfully as Thorn entered the tattered living room.

Thorn stopped in his tracks. He turned around and shot Murtagh a suspicious glare.

“I’m not you, I don’t hunt,” he said gruffly.

Murtagh merely shrugged.

“What do I know? I have to assume something since you keep sneaking out,” he said and slipped his hands into the pockets of his jeans. “I can’t help it if I have a one-tracked mind.”

Thorn flipped him off. Murtagh sniggered in answer. God, he loved to get a rise out of the hydra. And it was particular easy when Thorn was tired.

“So, if you don’t hunt...where do you go?” Murtagh drawled.

He saw Thorn stiffen. He licked his teeth as he waited for the answer.

“...Vanir, I went to see Vanir,” Thorn replied darkly. “You know, to make sure you don’t crash again, you suicidal fuck.”

Murtagh tsk’ed.

“And I’m supposed to believe that because it’s so much easier for you to simply pick up the blood instead of having Vanir send it?”

Thorn glared at him and Murtagh saw him rest a hand on the pouch he had tied to his belt.

“Yes,” Thorn hissed. “Like I said, I may hate you, but since you’re my rider, I don’t want to see you dead prematurely either.”

Murtagh snorted. He walked over to the window and stared out of it.

“I’ve been dead since the day I was born,” he replied coldly. “You’re just trying to keep my heart from stopping.”

Thorn snorted.

“I’m going to bed.”

Murtagh let him go. He continued to stare into the dawning day and felt a smirk enter his face.

“Get some beauty sleep, but be ready to start packing afterwards,” Murtagh called after him. “It’s time we left.”

Thorn let out a lout groan.

“Why do we have to leave now? Did you piss someone off again and had to scare them away with your pointy teeth?!” Thorn barked angrily.

“No,” the hazel eyed man said and grinned creepily. “Suddenly I just felt like moving again.”

He ignored Thorn’s loud muttering about crazy vampires and their odd urges. Murtagh started to hum softly while he walked to start packing. He was looking forward to see Thorn’s reaction to his plan later.

**::OBSESSION::**

Eragon woke up with the sudden urge to pee. He cursed inwardly and went to take care of his problem.

When he padded out of the bathroom he was surprised to see that it was only noon. Despite only having slept for six hours, he felt rested. He pushed the thought aside and got dressed. He was just smoothing down his t-shirt when he walked into the kitchen. There he promptly stopped.

“You get it now, kid?” Brom asked gruffly.

Aksel nodded sharply.

“But I got a question,” he bit his lip. “When can I do it?”

Brom growled and a wrinkle appeared on his forehead.

“When you’re courting your mate.”

“Oh,” Aksel breathed. “So I can’t -”

“You can’t,” Brom said firmly and put down the cup in his hands.

Eragon frowned and closed the door behind him.

“Am I interrupting something?”

“Ah, Eragon!” Aksel said happily. “Mornin’!”

“Nothing, son, I was just explaining the finer arts of the elf culture to this inadequate so-called chimera,” the older man said and sighed tiredly.

“Huh?” Eragon breathed and walked up to sit with them by the table.

“I can’t dance at all, and I cannot hum for a longer period of time until I’ve found a suitable mate and I’m courting them,” Aksel said and pretended to straighten a pair of invisible glasses.

“...What?” Eragon said with a half-laugh.

“What the kid is trying to say is that the elf courting ritual consists of dancing and humming. And since he’s maturing, he can’t dance or hum until he’s found a mate and is courting them,” Brom explained and rubbed a tired hand over his forehead. “You’d think he could ask his sister...”

Eragon grinned when Brom continued to mutter profanities under his breath.

“See, I did that, but the female courting ritual is different,” Aksel said and shrugged. “So I thought I’d ask the master just to be sure.”

The older man snorted and continued to grumble to himself.

“So, the species still hold onto their courting rituals?” Eragon asked softly.

Brom looked up from his hands and snorted loudly.

“Of course they do. With their cultures blending in with the human one they want to hold onto what is only theirs.”

“Yup,” Aksel said and nodded. “Every specie as its own courting ritual, but you did know that, right?”

Eragon raised an eyebrow in answer.

“Right,” the blond grinned. “And trust me when I say that the rituals are still highly sacred.”

“Wait, do hydras have a ritual?” the brunet asked with a slight frown on his face.

“They do,” Brom said quietly. “But they keep that mostly to themselves. The only ritual we know as little about as the hydran one is the vampiric one.”

Eragon flinched slightly. He hadn’t needed to know that.

“But you do need to know that, boy,” Brom said gruffly.

“I said that out loud?” Eragon asked puzzled.

“No, but it was written on your face,” Saphira said as she announced her presence.

Aksel jumped in his chair and nearly fell off of it. Eragon let out a small chuckle as Brom started to laugh heartily.

“Everyone’s against me,” Aksel huffed. “Why do I associate with you people?”

“Cos we’re the only ones that haven’t thrown you out with your head first,” Saphira said with a wink.

Eragon scooted to make room for her. She grinned and sat down beside him.

“How are you this morning?” she asked quietly.

“Fine. Except, I think the kid has found my bladder and likes to kick it,” Eragon drawled.

“Huh? But it’s only like...” Aksel held his fingers about ten centimetres apart. “...this big!”

“So? It can still kick,” Eragon said dryly. “It loves to move around too, apparently.”

Saphira smiled amusedly.

Brom stood up and moved over to the kitchen counter. Eragon was about to comment on his coffee addiction when the three teens was startled by a sudden vibrating sound.

Saphira hummed in confusion as she pulled out her cell-phone.

“I didn’t expect him to message me so soon,” she murmured.

“Thorn?” Eragon asked at the same time as Aksel said “The hunk?”

Saphira promptly reached out and slapped Aksel in the back of his head. Eragon smirked as the chimera pouted. Aksel opened his mouth to comment, or most likely whine, but shut it when Saphira’s eyes widened in shock.

“Saphira?” Brom called out. “What does it say?”

“...They’re coming to Carvahall,” she breathed.

**::OBSESSION::**

“What the fuck are you trying to prove?!” Thorn growled angrily. “Usually it takes you about a year to return to a city you’ve been spotted in.”

“So?”

Thorn fought the urge to kill his rider. When Murtagh had announced that they were going to Carvahall, he had almost believed it to be a joke. But when the vampire had bought the tickets, Thorn had to force himself to wait until they had left before exploding. Murtagh couldn’t be serious!

“I’m feeling nostalgic,” Murtagh drawled as he boarded the train. “If it makes you feel any better, I swear not to go near Saphira’s rider. Ok?”

Thorn growled threateningly.

“Why are you doing this?” he hissed darkly.

Murtagh sat down and made himself comfortable. Thorn noticed to his surprise that the compartment they were in was empty. He could see people climb on, but most of them moved into the other compartment.

“Why? Because I want to, because I can...take your pick,” the vampire said and yawned.

“You’re using magic to make sure this compartment stays empty, aren’t you?” Thorn asked suspiciously.

Murtagh merely grinned in answer.

“Moron! That’ll tire you out long before we reach Carvahall!”

Murtagh sniggered quietly.

“So what? I’m not going to use magic all the way; just until you give up trying to talk to me,” he said and shrugged.

Thorn snarled.

“But we are going to talk, whether you like it or not,” he seethed. _-But if you’re so afraid of being overheard, we can talk like this.-_

Murtagh flinched as if struck.

“Get out of my head,” he said calmly, though the murderous glimmer in his eyes cracked the calm mask he wore.

_-I’m not going anywhere until you talk,-_ Thorn stated smugly. _-So you might as well end the magic.-_

Murtagh growled angrily. Thorn just raised an eyebrow and crossed his arms unimpressed.

A minute later, someone stepped onto the train and sat down in their compartment. Thorn smirked smugly.

_-Shut up, you bastard,-_ the vampire hissed.

Thorn couldn’t help but to feel amused. Ever since they had learned of the mental connection they had, Murtagh had fought tooth and nail to keep the hydra out of his mind. It hadn’t wounded Thorn the slightest. He knew Murtagh, and he knew that Murtagh liked his privacy. To talk to Thorn like this was a serious blow to his ego, mostly because it was harder to lie when someone was inside your mind. And if there was one thing Murtagh hated, then it was the inability to keep things to himself.

_-Well? You wanted to talk, so talk!-_ Murtagh hissed angrily.

_-Why are we going back?-_

Murtagh groaned out loud.

_-Can’t you just be happy you’re seeing your girlfriend again? Fuck, you always had to be so damn annoying.-_

_-If there’s anything I’ve learned about you, it’s that you’re predictable. Yes, in your own twisted way, you’re predictable,-_ Thorn pressed on. _-Going back to a city that you claim to have been recognized in is weird even for you.-_

_-Why are you obsessing about this?-_ Murtagh moaned. _-For all you know, I could be fucking with you, and we could actually be going to Ceunon.-_

_-Right,-_ Thorn sneered. _-Because the only times we go there is to see Vanir, and you’ve always initiated those visits. You hate his guts, Tag.-_

The vampire shrugged.

_-So? Ceunon is still a likely destination,-_ he drawled.

_-Right,-_ Thorn drawled back. _-For taking this train, whose final stop is Carvahall, will get us there.-_

Murtagh rolled his eyes and moved to look out of the window.

_-Would you let this go, already? You’re giving me a headache,-_ Murtagh hissed with a slight hint of pain in his voice. _-Now, get out of my head.-_

_-When was the last time you ate?-_ the hydra asked.

Murtagh continued to not meet his gaze. Thorn felt frustration build up in him when Murtagh didn’t answer.

“Mur...”

“Nine days ago, alright?” Murtagh hissed angrily. _-And what did I tell you about saying my name in public?-_

Thorn just rolled his eyes.

_-So the last time you fed was when I gave you the control sample?-_

The hazel eyed man continued to stare out of the window.

_-Tag, answer me this,-_ Thorn waited until Murtagh flickered his eyes to meet his before continuing. _-Have you hunted at all during the last couple of months?-_

Thorn held his breath as he waited for an answer. He knew he was stepping on thin ice by asking that question, but he couldn’t help it; he needed answers!

_-Of course I have,-_ Murtagh sneered. _-How else do you expect me to eat? Lie down and wait for the prey to come to me?-_

_-Oh, and just when have you ventured out on these hunts of yours?-_ Thorn drawled.

He could feel the hatred in Murtagh’s eyes. It was strange to be on the receiving end, Thorn remarked. Usually it was him that glared at Murtagh, but now their roles were reversed.

_-You see, there are times when you’re asleep that I think that staying inside is too boring._ That _is when I hunt,-_ the vampire answered in a cold tone.

Thorn refrained from telling Murtagh just what he thought of that logic.

_-I don’t care if you believe me or not, but we’re through,-_ Murtagh told him darkly. _-I’m going to sleep now, and you will stay out of my mind.-_

“Whatever,” Thorn answered out loud.

Murtagh sneered and closed his eyes, his posture stiff and hostile. Thorn rolled his eyes and looked away.

Gradually Murtagh’s form relaxed and Thorn could tell he had fallen asleep. He turned back to his rider and couldn’t help but to study him. He frowned when he noticed dark circles forming underneath Murtagh’s eyes. He let his mind reach out, as much as he dared to, and tried to feel if Murtagh was getting sick. Everything seemed to be alright.

Thorn pursed his lips and carefully reached out. He gently touched the back of Murtagh’s hand before retreating. It was icy to the touch, a sure sign Murtagh hadn’t eaten in a while.

The hydra leaned back and started to think. There was a lot that Thorn felt was amiss. He seriously doubted that Murtagh hunted during the night, and since he was always sulking around in the house during the day, he couldn’t see when Murtagh had snuck off. But there was one thing that Thorn was absolutely sure of; Murtagh wasn’t going back to claim what was his.

Despite what he had told Saphira and Eragon; Thorn was nowhere near making Murtagh see that the prospect of having a mate wasn’t bad. Whenever he tried to approach the subject, Murtagh would either leave the room or just ignore him until he gave up. And it was making Thorn rather irritated.

However, Thorn vowed that even if it was the last thing he did, he was going to make Murtagh see that mates weren’t such a bad thing, regardless of the extreme measures he would have to take.

**::OBSESSION::**

“What do you mean, coming to Carvahall?” Brom growled.

“Thorn says that they’re coming here,” Saphira replied in a half-whisper.

Brom cursed loudly and nearly threw the cup into the wall.

Eragon remained seated as he was distantly aware of chaos erupting around him. He circled his arms around his stomach and closed his eyes tightly. And then he prayed. Even if he wasn’t a religious person, he gritted his teeth together and prayed.

He prayed that Murtagh wouldn’t visit him, that Murtagh would simply forget about him, and that his child would remain safe, no matter what happened. Even if he had to fight of Murtagh with his own hands, he prayed that his child would stay safe.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> **Andelan Vocabulary:**  
>  _Andelan_ – A language that is also called “Old Tongue”. It’s the language that Alagaësia and Surda spoke in the old days.  
>  _Bloyean_ – The word for “vampire”


	7. My Precious Possession

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I want to thank everyone for their kind comments on all my stories. You guys are amazing. :)
> 
> I'd also like to apologise for taking so long with updating my stories. That was never my intention. Life and school just got in the way, and there was nothing I could do about it. Thankfully I'm done with school once and for all, and I can finally go back to transferring my stories over to this website.
> 
> It might take me a while, but I'll get it done I promise. Just give me time. 
> 
> Until then, enjoy this chapter. 
> 
> Beware: mentions of the dubious consent in the last chapter. Read with caution.
> 
>  _ **Word**_ – word written in my language Andelan

_::September to October::_

Eragon was prepared for the panic Saphira’s statement came with. What he was not prepared for was the news of his apparent lock-up.

“What do you mean I can’t go outside?!” Eragon protested.

Brom sighed tiredly.

“We aren’t letting him anywhere close to you, and the best way to do that is to keep you locked up in your room.”

“But why!? I promise not to go outside!” Eragon whined.

“He can easily find you if he’s standing outside of that door,” Brom said and nodded towards the door leading to the terrace, which coincidentally happened to be made of glass. “Inside your room, there are no windows or doors that he can see you through. It is vital that we keep your pregnancy from him at all costs.”

“He’s right, Eragon,” Saphira said and bit her lip in obvious worry. “You remember what Thorn said.”

Eragon flinched. Yes, he quite remembered what Thorn had said. When he thought about it, Thorn hadn’t actually answered his question. That did nothing to make him feel better. And from what Saphira had told him, Thorn hadn’t said much more to her either.

“But do I have to?” he asked again.

“For the sake of you and your child, yes,” Brom said sternly.

Eragon bit his lip. He saw the logic in it, but the thought of being locked up for a month did not appeal to him. But when he laid a hand on his stomach, he knew what he had to do. He had gone this far; there was no way Murtagh was going to get a chance to kill his child.

**::OBSESSION::**

Saphira was worried. It had been a few hours since Thorn had sent her the message, and she knew that they would now be inside of Carvahall.

She ached to find Thorn, and at the same time she ached to murder his rider. Murtagh had no right to do this! All he had had to do was to stay out of Carvahall for another four months, and Eragon would have been out of immediate danger. Saphira knew that the instant Murtagh found out that Eragon was pregnant, he would be out of control. There was just something about him that made her worry. Granted, Saphira had never met a vampire before, but something struck her as different about Murtagh; he wasn’t like the rest. And she didn’t know if that was a good thing or not.

There was one thing she did know, and that was the vampire’s odd possessiveness towards Eragon. She had seen the kiss they had shared. Murtagh had been staking his claim. But at the same time, she knew it wasn’t on an emotional level; he was rather claiming Eragon because he could. Because he felt that he was better than everyone else.

And because of that possessive streak, Saphira was very worried about Eragon. She knew that if Eragon were to walk outside, Murtagh would seek him out. She knew how much Eragon hated to be locked away, no matter how much sense it made, and that just made her detest Murtagh even more.

“Saphira?”

Saphira blinked owlishly. Eragon sent her a half-amused look while he crossed his arms over his chest.

“Is something wrong?” he asked softly.

“Should you be out here?” Saphira asked and shot a quick look outside.

“Geez, can’t I step out of my room just to get a glass of water?” Eragon said and walked to do just that.

Saphira bit her lip and followed him. He filled a glass with water and drank half of it before refilling it. He turned around and startled when he noticed how close they were.

“...Seriously?” he frowned. “I can’t even go to the kitchen unsupervised?”

“We’d rather you didn’t, no,” Saphira said and pursed her lips.

Eragon’s face hardened. He stalked past her and half a minute later she heard the door slam. Saphira sighed tiredly. She twinned a lock of blue hair around her finger as she walked soundlessly to his room. She knocked softly.

“Eragon?”

No answer. Saphira bit her lip and entered anyway.

Eragon was sitting on is bed, glaring at the opposite wall. One hand rested on top of his slightly rounded stomach while the other lay fisted on the bed.

“I hate him,” Eragon growled.

Saphira closed the door behind her and leaned against it.

“I know. We all hate him,” she murmured.

“No one hates him like I do!” Eragon exclaimed angrily. “He’s ruined my life!! Why me, huh?! Why did he have to go after me, the bloody **_ghalack_**.”

Saphira rushed over and crouched down in front of him. She softly caressed his cheek while sending comforting thoughts over their link.

“None of this would have happened if I had stayed at home, if I had stayed clear of him, if I had killed him when I had had the chance, or if I had ab-”

“Don’t you dare say it,” Saphira hissed.

She would not allow him to say that.

“This is not your child’s fault. Do not blame him or her like that,” she said sternly.

Eragon looked away, his cheeks burning in shame.

“Curse him all you want, but do _not_ curse this child.”

Eragon nodded softly.

“And I know you don’t like the situation, but for your own sake, we would like you not to walk into the living room or kitchen without there being someone present,” Saphira said and stood up. “I know it’s frustrating, and that the chances of him knowing where you are are slim, but we can’t afford to take any chances.”

Eragon looked into her eyes. The brown orbs narrowed slightly before he nodded again.

“Murtagh is dangerous and he doesn’t think he has anything to lose. Let’s make sure he’s not allowed to act on that belief,” the blue eyed girl said and crossed her arms.

“Sure. I’ll just stay right here,” Eragon sighed.

Saphira nodded softly and smiled. Eragon sent her a tired smile back. She turned around and started to walk away. Her hand paused on the doorknob.

“Eragon?” she murmured.

“Huh?”

“If you had the choice, would you want to tell Murtagh of your child once he or she is born?” she asked in a near whisper.

Silence raged behind her. She looked over her shoulder and bit her lip.

“I don’t know,” Eragon said tensely.

Saphira sighed softly.

“I’ll be back,” she said and slipped quietly out of the room.

**::OBSESSION::**

Thorn stared at their hideout with obvious displeasure. It was a shack. A _shack_. He seriously wondered what was going on in Murtagh’s mind.

Once they had gotten off the train, Murtagh had led them onto a bus and hadn’t hopped off it until they were nearly outside of Carvahall. From there Thorn reckoned it could only be a two hour drive to Ceunon. Maybe Murtagh actually considered visiting Vanir? Thorn wrote a mental note to call Vanir later. They needed to get their stories straight.

“So, what do you think?” Murtagh smirked.

Thorn redirected his gaze. He gave his rider a cold stare. Murtagh barked a laugh and walked into the small house. Thorn wrinkled his nose and walked in after him.

It wasn’t as bad inside as it looked from the outside. The kitchen area that had seen better days and the living room breathed dust. But even so, every wall was intact and the glass was still present in the windows. Thorn counted three rooms apart from the kitchen and living room. He truly hoped two of them were bedroom; he had no intention of sleeping beside his rider.

“I’ve seen worse,” Thorn said dryly.

“Are you kidding?” Murtagh laughed. “The warehouse back in Dras Leona was a thousand times worse than this! This is a sanctuary in comparison.”

Thorn chose not to comment.

“Murtagh, what are we doing here?” he asked as his rider slipped into one of the three rooms.

No answer. Thorn growled and checked the other two rooms out. He breathed out in relief when one of them was a bedroom. He put down his bag and stalked into his rider’s room.

“Murtagh.”

Said man rolled his eyes.

“Why do you care so much? Are you hiding something from me?” he asked and crocked an eyebrow.

“I want to know if you’re back to kill Saphira’s rider. Because if you are, I swear to God I’ll -”

“Fuck, I know; you’ll kill me,” Murtagh snorted. “I’m not back to kill the brat. How many times do I have to tell you that, huh?”

Thorn just narrowed his eyes.

“Excuse me if I find you hard to believe,” Thorn drawled.

Murtagh flipped him off. Thorn rolled his eyes and spun on his heel. He was halfway out of the room when Murtagh spoke again.

“You better go to bed early tonight. We’re leaving bright and early tomorrow.”

Thorn sent him a suspicious stare. Murtagh smirked and showed off his fangs quite nicely. Thorn winced mentally.

“We’re off to see the magician,” Murtagh finished happily.

Thorn sneered and stalked out of the room. He shouted that he was leaving over his shoulder and pulled out his cell phone. He needed to call Vanir, now.

As the phone rang, Thorn couldn’t help but to feel that something was seriously wrong with Murtagh. He just hoped that nothing bad was about to happen.

**::OBSESSION::**

Murtagh didn’t sleep that night; he had sat out on the porch and watched the sun rise. He had woken Thorn bright and early and had dragged him onto the first bus to Ceunon. He actually wanted to visit Vanir.

He and Vanir had never gotten along. They were like oil and water; they simply didn’t mix. But if what Thorn said was true, and he had been to visit Vanir at least four times since his near-coma incident, then Murtagh wanted to know what Vanir suspected was wrong. Oh no, Thorn wouldn’t come all that way just to pick up some blood; something else was going on. That Murtagh was certain of.

“Tag?”

Murtagh sneered at Thorn. Even though the bus was empty except a couple in the front and three teenage girls that were chatting nonstop, he really didn’t like it when Thorn addressed him out loud.

“What?” he barked.

“Why are you so against mates? Is it because of the vampire in you, or something else?” Thorn asked quietly.

Murtagh wondered for a minute why Thorn wasn’t chatting with him over their link, especially if this was what he wanted to ask. Murtagh rolled his eyes and pushed the thought aside.

“Both I suppose,” Murtagh drawled. “Now leave it alone.”

Thorn had been awfully chatty about mates lately. Murtagh had a feeling he knew why, and he wasn’t too comfortable about it. But it was nothing he could do. If Thorn wanted to make Saphira his, then he wouldn’t stand in the way. Even if he would get lonely over time, he had always had a feeling that Thorn would eventually leave him. He had just never suspected the redhead would leave because of a girl.

“But -” Thorn protested.

“Fuck, if you want to mate with the girl so bad, then go and get her!” Murtagh snarled. “It’s not like I can stop you.”

Thorn fell silent. Murtagh glared hotly out of the window and watched the landscape blur around them as they drove on.

“I’m not asking for my sake,” Thorn said finally.

Murtagh stiffened. What? That was absurd; of course he was! Murtagh sent him a glare that told Thorn just this.

“I’m not,” the hydra stressed. “I want to know why you’re against being with someone for the rest of your life.”

“Because I detest the thought of having to be depended on someone for the rest of my miserable life,” the vampire growled. “There’s a reason few or no vampires mate; we’re not made for it.”

“If it was so, then vampires wouldn’t have mates,” Thorn told him dryly. “You just have to be willing.”

“Well, I’m not,” Murtagh told him harshly. “Now drop it.”

Thorn opened his mouth to speak, but Murtagh pushed the stop-button harshly and shoved him aside. Murtagh stalked off the bus and didn’t even wait to check if Thorn followed him. The soft footsteps he could hear behind him and the dull beating of Thorn’s heart told him enough.

There was one thing Murtagh had always detested about Thorn; the hydra was a very skilled liar. He could control his pulse and heart rate at such a precision that not even Murtagh, a vampire, could hear when he was lying.

Fortunately Vanir was a totally different case. And as they walked up to his house, Murtagh eagerly sped up. He couldn’t wait to see what the visit would give him of information.

Murtagh didn’t even get a chance to knock before Vanir threw the door open. The magician glared at him and stalked back into his house. Murtagh smirked and walked inside.

“What do you want?” Vanir asked sourly from somewhere inside the house.

Murtagh allowed the man’s heartbeat to take him there. Vanir’s heart remained steady, even if Murtagh could tell by the smells in the house that he was making a potion. A potion that could easily blow up or do worse if prepared wrongly. Then again, Vanir had always been horribly cocky.

“I hear Thorn’s been visiting you an awful lot lately,” Murtagh stated as he stepped into Vanir’s kitchen.

The kitchen was larger than one would expect. There was two of everything; two stoves and a lot of cabinets and an extra small fridge. One of the two benches was filled with measurement cups, jars and a few pieces of paper. Vanir stood by one of the stoves and was sprinkling something into a bubbling pot.

“That’s true,” Vanir said and stirred the content slowly. “So?”

Murtagh cursed when Vanir’s heartbeat remained steady. Could Thorn actually have been telling the truth?

“What have you two ladies been up to, then?” Murtagh drawled and sat down.

Thorn remained where he was; leaned against the wall beside the door.

“Chatting about your ungrateful ass,” Vanir said coldly. “I’ve been trying to find out what’s wrong with you.”

“And?” Murtagh yawned; already starting to feel bored.

“I’ve found a blood type that you seem to be able to digest without having any side effects,” the magician said and turned off the stove.

Vanir then put a lid onto the pot and put it into a basin of ice water. The water started to steam.

“Which?”

Vanir didn’t even look back at him as he started to clean up.

“AB,” Vanir replied two seconds before Murtagh had been about to ask him again.

Murtagh snorted.

“You have got to be kidding me,” Murtagh drawled. “I’ve reacted badly on every AB person I’ve bit up until this point...or so you claim.”

Vanir put away the last jar and glared at him.

“I tested the blood I’ve been giving you, every pouch is AB. Maybe it helps that it’s AB negative,” he said sarcastically.

Murtagh frowned. That didn’t make any sense.

“Quit fucking with me,” Murtagh said coldly. “There’s no way.”

The magician snorted.

“As much as I’d love to be _fucking with you_ , I’m not,” he drawled. “For the past two months you’ve been given AB type blood. The end.”

The vampire shot a glare at Thorn. The hydra just shrugged.

“How the hell should I know? All I know is that we came to that conclusion, and since then Vanir’s been giving me what he says is AB.”

Something was still not quite right, Murtagh could feel it. He licked his lips.

“Every bag has been filled with AB negative blood? That’s kind of hard to come by, isn’t it?”

Vanir frowned. Murtagh noted that his heartbeat sped up for a second before going calm again. Interesting.

“I sent in a letter to the blood bank and asked to get as many bags of AB negative blood they had. I told them I needed it in an experiment. People don’t ask many questions when they’re dealing with magicians,” Vanir told him dryly.

Murtagh chuckled softly.

“Why do I get the feeling that you’re lying?” he asked with a pleased smirk.

“You’re allowed to think whatever the fuck you want to,” the blue eyed man said distastefully. “Was that all?”

“Actually, no,” Murtagh said and stood up. “Figured out why I went into a near-coma yet?”

The hazel eyed man saw Thorn move out of the corner of his eye.

“You had been starving yourself,” Vanir said darkly. “How long was it again, two weeks? That means that you missed five or so very important meals. Should that answer your bloody question?”

Murtagh opened his mouth to reply, but Vanir cut him off.

“That equal about two months without feeding for a more normal vampire, if you need something to compare it to. It doesn’t sound that improbable anymore, does it?”

Murtagh sneered. Alright, so maybe Vanir had a point. _Fuck_.

“Fine, whatever,” Murtagh said and shrugged. “Thorn, we’re leaving.”

Murtagh heard Vanir curse at him as they left. He chuckled and let the door slam behind them. Vanir cursed loudly and screamed how delicate his potions were. Murtagh replied by laughing loudly.

Ah, nothing felt better than to agitate Vanir, especially when the bastard deserved it.

**::OBSESSION::**

Two weeks went by and Eragon was now in the sixth month of his pregnancy. It embarrassed him to walk around with his stomach now. Even though it wasn’t really visible under his hoodies and large t-shirts, it felt so much bigger! While he had been borrowing the old man’s pants for some time, he hadn’t felt the need to borrow any t-shirts...before now, that was. Brom had just laughed and given him a few of his old ones, something Eragon was very thankful for.

“You look so cute!” Arya said and pinched his cheek.

Eragon looked at her blankly. He did not feel cute. His bladder wasn’t under his control, and while he didn’t have cravings, some things didn’t taste as good as they used to. He hated it. While this had been going on for some time, it only seemed to get worse as the months went by.

“Sis, you’re acting odd,” Aksel told her bluntly.

Arya just waved him off. Aksel stuck his tongue out at her.

“How’re you feeling, Eragon?” Nasuada asked softly.

“Alright enough I guess, considering the circumstances,” he replied.

“Ah, so they’re still in town,” Nasuada pursed her lips.

“Thorn says so,” Saphira said and let out a sad sigh. “But apparently Thorn’s rider didn’t come here to take Eragon; he just wanted to visit that magician.”

“And did he buy Thorn’s lies?” Eragon asked softly.

“For now it seems like he has. I’m still keeping my fingers crossed, though,” the blue haired girl answered honestly.

A few minutes later Arya and Nasuada said their goodbyes and left. Aksel walked off, murmuring something about seeing someone about a dog. Eragon just shook his head and motioned for Saphira not to ask.

Outside the October wind continued to howl.

Eragon sighed. At least he didn’t have problems sleeping anymore. That still didn’t mean that he didn’t want to meet Murtagh ever again, even if he had somehow made it possible for him to sleep again.

“You need to lighten up a bit,” Saphira said and sat down beside him. “Just think that in less than three months, all of this will be over.”

“Sure, the pregnancy bit will be,” Eragon drawled. “But that’s when the whole ‘shit, I’m a father!’ part starts. And let’s not forget that I need to stay away from the **_bloyean_** even more! Stupid prick!”

Saphira sighed softly. She gently caressed his arm while her other hand softly ran through his hair. Eragon could feel the tension slowly slip away.

“Just take one day at a time. You’ll just feel worse if you worry too much about the future.”

Eragon sighed again. She was right; he knew that. But even so, it didn’t stop him from worrying.

Saphira opened her mouth to speak, but was interrupted by the beeping of her cell phone. She frowned and pulled it out.

“It’s Thorn,” she bit her lip and answered the call. “Hello?”

Eragon watched as her eyes widened. Her eyes flickered around in the room, staring particularly hard at the terrace entrance.

“Got it. Thank you,” she hung up.

“Saph?”

Saphira just took hold of his arm and took off. Eragon kept up the best he could as she dragged him out of the room, down the hall and pushed him inside the room he nowadays referred to as his cell.

“What’s going on?!” Eragon exclaimed.

“It’s Murtagh,” she gulped. “Thorn called and said that he had taken off. He’s **here**!”

Eragon felt his heart stop.

“No. No, no, no, no, no,” Eragon muttered under his breath. “He, he can’t be!”

Saphira closed the door firmly and sent him a desperate look. Eragon felt sick. He sat down on his bed, pulled his legs to his chest and wrapped his arms around them.

“I will have to let Brom know, and Aksel if he’s still around. Actually, we need to hide him,” Saphira cursed. “We have no idea what Murtagh will do if he recognizes Aksel as a chimera!”

Eragon tried to keep himself from shaking.

“You just stay here, alright? Do not leave this room under any circumstances. I will be back or send Aksel to you, okay?” she looked at him.

Eragon just nodded. Saphira was out of the room in a flash and closed the door behind her.

The brunet could feel the panic setting in. Why was this happening?! Why couldn’t Murtagh just leave him alone?!? He bit his lip and willed himself not to cry.

**::OBSESSION::**

Saphira was trying hard not to panic. She had found Aksel wandering out of the bathroom and had sent him to Eragon’s room. It hadn’t taken much persuasion; just the mention of the vampire’s name had made Aksel turn around and run in the direction she had come. She thanked whatever Gods had possessed him with the ability of being serious when he needed to be.

“Saphira?” Brom asked her as he stepped out of his study.

They were still in the hallway that ended in the living room and kitchen area. There were other rooms in that direction as well, like the library and Brom’s bedroom. Saphira was immensely relieved that Brom hadn’t decided to stay in that end. She feared what she would see if she looked out of the terrace entrance again.

“It’s Murtagh,” she licked her lips. “He’s here.”

Brom’s face darkened instantly.

“Is he here for Eragon?”

“Doubtfully,” Saphira answered. “I mean, not in a mate kind of situation. Thorn updates me on his task. So far Murtagh’s still very against having a mate. I don’t know why he’s here, but he’s not getting Eragon either way.”

Brom nodded. He muttered words under his breath, but she was only able to catch a few of them. The few she recognized were not pleasant.

“Eragon is in his room?” the older man asked.

“And Aksel’s with him.”

Brom nodded gravely. He closed the door behind himself and rolled up the sleeves of his shirt. Saphira’s eyes widened when she saw tattoo markings. Brom had not only been a rider, but a very powerful one at that. Or else he would not have markings like the ones he had. Saphira examined them for a moment. Most of them were related to magic, but not the same kind that magicians wore. She was once again reminded that Brom had fought in a war.

“Then let’s go and meet him,” Brom said darkly.

Saphira nodded. Brom walked in front of her, and while he opened the door, she activated her vision. That vampire was not going to sneak up on them.

She gasped when she saw him. She had never really seen Murtagh up close, at least not while he was well. The only time she had gotten a glimpse of him was...she shook her head. It didn’t matter. It was the first time she was fully able to see the proud tilt of his jaw and the colour of his eyes. She shuddered mentally.

If there was one word to describe him, it would be deadly.

She opened her mouth to let Brom know, but the old man was already walking towards the glass doors and was unlocking them. He threw them open and glared out.

“We know that you’re there,” he growled.

Saphira walked him behind him, never keeping her eyes off the dark form that was slowly stepping out of the shadows.

Murtagh had a lot of guts, trespassing like he was currently doing. When the light shone on his face, she was able to see the arrogant smirk. Not only did he have guts, he didn’t care that what he was doing could be potentially dangerous.

“Murtagh Morzansson,” Brom growled darkly. “You have a lot of guts trespassing on my ground.”

“An eye for an eye, old man,” Murtagh said and tilted his head. “You’ve trespassed on my ground twice in the past.”

“The difference is that you know what you’re doing.”

Murtagh just smirked.

“If you’re here for Eragon, you’ll be sorely disappointed,” Brom said darkly.

“Why? I know he’s in there,” Murtagh licked his lips and laughed. “And you’re a fool to think that you can keep me out.”

Brom stepped out of the doorway. The planks under him creaked slightly. Saphira remained standing in his place, to ensure that Murtagh wouldn’t get inside if he somehow got past Brom.

“I can and I will,” the older man smirked. “You will not step into my house and live, Morzansson.”

“I recall you saying the same to my father,” Murtagh drawled. “But in the end, it wasn’t you who made sure that he didn’t. No, it was me. I think I deserve something in return, don’t you?”

“You’re already made Eragon’s life a living hell,” Saphira snarled. “We will not let you come near him again.”

Murtagh looked at her. It felt like her insides froze when her eyes met his. Even if they were hazel, they could just as well have been black; they were cold and radiated death.

“Oh really?” Murtagh actually looked amused. “Don’t be so sure of that.”

“Turn around and go back, Morzansson,” Brom said coldly. “You will not enter my house tonight or any other day you might see fit to return.”

Murtagh yawned. Saphira flinched at the sight of his teeth.

“You’re only trying to delay the inevitable,” the vampire smirked. “That boy will be mine.”

“You will find that to be a difficult task,” Brom said and chuckled. “You might even find that to be an impossible task.”

Murtagh raised an eyebrow. He did not look convinced.

“Even if you only thirst for his blood, others lust for the boy himself,” Brom crossed his arms. “Are you willing to rip him out of the arms of a fiercely protective mate as well as myself and a hydra?”

Saphira gasped. What was Brom trying to do!? She hurriedly redirected her gaze back to Murtagh. He had tilted his head forward, his long bangs falling over his eyes.

“Then so be it,” Murtagh said darkly. “For that boy will be mine.”

Saphira nearly stumbled when she saw his dark and shimmering eyes. She blinked and he was gone. Before her, Brom sighed and walked back inside. She watched him with wide eyes as he closed the doors and locked them tightly.

“Sir?”

“You never fight fire with water, Saphira. You always fight fire with fire,” Brom told her softly and laid a hand on her shoulder. “But I think you should check on Eragon.”

Her instincts won over her curiosity. In a flash, she had turned and was running to her friend.

**::OBSESSION::**

Thorn was pacing up and down the room. He knew he could have just as easily tracked Murtagh down, but he knew that he wouldn’t arrive in time to make a difference. So therefore he had called Saphira the minute had noticed and had started to prepare some ass-kicking for his rider when he came back.

Thorn ran his hands over his face. If Murtagh had done something, oh, he would kill him! No, killing was too mild. He would skin him, slaughter him, drain him and then maybe he’d be merciful enough to kill him.

The creaking in the floor alerted him of someone’s presence. Thorn stiffened and turned around. Murtagh raised an eyebrow. Thorn growled.

“Where were you?”

“Nowhere,” Murtagh rolled his eyes and walked calmly in the direction of his bedroom.

Thorn was before him in a flash. He snarled angrily. Murtagh blinked.

“What’s wrong with you?” Murtagh drawled.

“You’re what’s wrong with me,” Thorn narrowed his eyes. “I believe you swore that you wouldn’t go near Saphira’s rider. What the fuck, Murtagh?!”

“Che,” the vampire crossed his arms over his chest. “So I lied. What’s the big deal?”

“The big deal is that I’m not going to let you kill him!!” the redhead roared.

“Who said anything about killing him?”

“Murtagh, I know you,” Thorn hissed. “You want to kill him. I can see it in your eyes, for fucks sake!”

“Just what exactly do you see?” Murtagh tilted his head.

“I see the bloodlust, you demented psycho. They’re black again, in case you didn’t realise that,” Thorn snapped.

Murtagh blinked in seemingly genuine surprise. He let out a snort and blinked again. Thorn felt a little more at ease when they turned hazel.

It didn’t mean he wasn’t still mad at him, though.

“What did you do, you freak?” the hydra growled. “Why did you do it?!”

“One question at a time,” Murtagh yawned. “What I did? I believe you already know what I did. And why? I believe you know that too.”

“Why, why are you obsessed with Eragon?” Thorn snarled angrily. “He’s no different than any other kid out there!”

“Hardly,” Murtagh snorted. “One; he’s a rider. Two; he has the sweetest blood I’ve ever tasted. Pure addiction.”

Thorn glared at him. Murtagh smirked.

“And I want more.”

Thorn made sure to keep his heart beat steady. He had never heard such words uttered from Murtagh’s lips before. It had always been ‘ _they were fun; I wanted to play with them a little more_ ’ or ‘ _I was interrupted, and you know how I don’t like to leave things unfinished_ ’ before. Thorn really didn’t like what he was hearing.

It also made him wonder if Murtagh knew whose blood he had been fed for so long.

“You’re not getting him,” Thorn told him darkly. “I won’t let you.”

Murtagh rolled his eyes.

“Thorn, I will have that boy, even if I have to go through you too,” he told him bluntly.

Before Thorn could reply, Murtagh had slipped around him and was walking away. Thorn spun around and grabbed hold of the vampire before he could go any further.

“What?”

Murtagh glared at him.

“That boy will be mine,” Murtagh hissed. “And I don’t care who I have to go through to get him. Be it you, that old man, Saphira or even his mate. I **will** have him.”

Thorn froze. What the hell? What had happened at Brom’s place?

“Eragon’s mate?” he had to ask.

“Yes,” Murtagh drawled. “Didn’t Saphira tell you? I do believe he has one now. Oh well, one more person for me to kill. What fun.”

Thorn could only watch Murtagh twist his arm out of Thorn’s hold and slip into his room. Thorn frowned.

Murtagh had sounded calm and collected, he had heard as much. But his eyes, they told another story. They had been black.

The hydra stalked out of the house and started to dial Saphira’s number, half of his conscious on the house as he did so. Murtagh was not slipping away from him again.

**::OBSESSION::**

Murtagh slipped out of the window and jumped up on the roof. It was difficult to find a decent spot to sit, but once he found one, he could watch and listen in on Thorn in peace.

It was time he learned what was going on.

“Saphira, what the hell’s going on!?” Thorn hissed.

Ah, so he had been right. Thorn was in touch with Saphira, and by the sound of it, they had only gotten closer since the last time. Interesting.

“He **what**?!” Thorn exclaimed quietly.

That was most likely Saphira telling Thorn how he had promised to get to Eragon at all costs. Though that didn’t fit; Thorn already knew that. Maybe Saphira had mentioned how he had treated the old man.

“I’m going to kill him,” the hydra growled angrily and started to pace.

Murtagh was almost tempted to give Thorn the green light. It would be interesting to see how he would try to do just that. Killing a vampire was no easy task; you had to know just where to hit and what to do. Murtagh had had to look it up himself. Even if Morzan had been weakened, he hadn’t been about to take any chances. A nine year old against a thirty-something year old would have looked even less promising otherwise.

“How’s Eragon doing? I swear, if Murtagh did something...”

Murtagh froze. It was understandable that Brom knew his name; he had stumbled across Murtagh and his father more than once, but Thorn was using it so freely! Like it wasn’t the first time he was using it around Saphira.

This did not bode well.

“Good, that’s good,” Thorn sighed. “No complications or anything?”

Complications? Murtagh frowned. What the hell was Thorn talking about?

“Good...No, he’s back now,” the hydra ran a hand through his hair. “And he’s acting weird, Saphira.”

Weird, huh?

“Yes, weird! Like...” Thorn paused, glaring back at the house. “Say, you wouldn’t happen to notice the colour of his eyes when you left did you?”

Murtagh frowned when Thorn nodded, looking as if he had been expecting the answer. What? Was Thorn implying that his eyes had been dark when he had left Brom’s grounds?

“Just as I thought. I think...” he paused. “Well-”

Saphira must have interrupted him to have paused in such a place. Murtagh scowled. He wanted to know what Thorn thought!

“Yes, exactly.”

What?!

“But if that’s the case, you need to move on to plan B,” Thorn said gravely.

There had been a plan A? Murtagh did not like sound of this. Thorn was on their side; that much was plainly obvious. But for what reason? Thorn would never deceive him unless it was for a very good reason. And Murtagh did not think that courting Saphira was a good enough reason; even in Thorn’s mind that would sound weak. So, what was it?

“Alright. Contact me if anything happens, I don’t care what time it is,” Thorn said and slouched slightly. “Yeah, I miss you too.”

Murtagh gagged. Alright, the conversation was obviously over. He slipped down the roof and landed softly on the ground. Then he slipped back inside the house and lied down on the bed.

He scowled up at the roof. What the fuck was going on? Murtagh wouldn’t rest until he found it out.

**::OBSESSION::**

Eragon watched as Saphira entered the room again, putting away her phone and sighing as she did so.

“Saph?”

She walked slowly back to his side. She had walked out of the room the minute her phone had rung. And even out there, she had talked so softly that Aksel hadn’t been able to hear what had been said. And since Aksel was a half-elf that meant that she had spoken in a tone that was almost lower than a whisper.

“Well, he’s back with Thorn now,” she said tiredly.

“Fuckin’ prick,” Aksel growled. “You know, I ought to just go for Eragon just to upset the dude!”

“Aksel, despite what we may say; we like you. Please don’t sign your own death sentence like that,” Saphira said and sat down beside Eragon on the bed.

Aksel rolled his eyes. While Saphira sat on the edge closest to the door, he sat on the other side. He continued to lightly tap his foot against the floor as he looked up at the ceiling. The foot barely made a sound as it hit the floor, thankfully. If it had though, Eragon would have killed Aksel in a nervous rage ages ago.

“The jerkwat doesn’t even deserve Eragon,” the blond male grumbled.

Eragon bit his lip. It was nice to hear that people cared about him.

“We all agree, but...” Saphira shook her head. “It doesn’t matter. Thorn gave me some bad news, though.”

Eragon felt his heart leap into his throat. He didn’t know how much more bad news he could take.

“Murtagh knows that something’s going on,” the blue haired girl clenched her hands in her lap. “He was eavesdropping on our conversation. Thorn made sure he didn’t hear anything vital, though.”

The brunet put his head in his hands. Great, bloody great.

“Also, it seems that while Murtagh’s consciously denying the bond, his unconsciousness is accepting it,” Saphira bit her lip. “He’s acting jealous and possessive.”

“Great,” Eragon drawled. “That’s just what we need.”

“It is!” Saphira exclaimed and took his hands in hers. “If we can somehow get him to accept the bond, then you don’t have to live in fear anymore. The child would have their father too.”

Eragon looked down.

“You know just as well as I do that Murtagh’s not going to accept it anytime soon.”

Saphira tightened her grip around his hands momentarily.

“He thinks you’re mated to someone else,” she said quietly.

Aksel made a loud choking sound. Eragon snapped his head up and stared at her.

“Brom said it, not me,” Saphira pursed her lips. “And when he said it, Murtagh got all tense and his eyes changed. Thorn also told me that when the colour didn’t fade until Murtagh consciously willed it away. He wasn’t even aware of it! And then, afterwards, while Murtagh said he wants to, um, _kill_ you; he said that he wanted you for himself. Somewhere inside of him something’s breaking free, and it’s you it wants.”

“See, that’s not comforting me in any way,” Eragon told her bluntly. “In fact, what do you think about moving to Surda?”

“Oh, Eragon,” Saphira sighed. “As a vampire Murtagh will probably always want to kill you; it’s in his nature. But as your mate, he’ll want to protect you far more than he wants to kill you. But -”

“No, let me guess; he just doesn’t know it yet?” Eragon drawled.

Saphira just smiled.

Eragon groaned and flopped down on the bed. He found a pillow and buried his face in it.

“Kill me, and kill me now,” he moaned.

“Thorn’s going to keep a good eye on Murtagh from now on, though. Thorn isn’t actually sure how Murtagh managed to slip away, but he’s not going to let him do it again,” Saphira’s voice had hardened. “And from now on, Eragon, you’re not going out into the living room.”

“WHAT?!”

“She’s right,” Aksel piped up. “The dude’s here and he’s thirsting for your blood. We’re not going to put it on display for him, especially now.”

“If he somehow, God forbid, gets to you Eragon, call for me,” Saphira said and wretched the pillow away from his face. “And when I say call, I mean _call_.”

Eragon nodded. He knew what she meant. Besides, if his lungs somehow gave out, it was easier to shout mentally anyway.

“Now, are you still hungry for some dinner?” Saphira stood up.

Eragon shook his head. He doubted he’d be able to keep anything down.

“Okay. Aksel, you stay here until I come back. I need to talk to Brom.”

Aksel nodded eagerly. When Saphira walked out, he pulled his legs to him and turned, facing Eragon more properly.

“You sure you’re okay, though? I mean, this has been a pretty shitty day...”

The brunet sighed. He pushed himself up and rearranged his sweater.

“I’m not okay, Aksel, and I doubt I’ll be for a long time,” he sighed. “I just...there are times when I wish he was dead. But who am I kidding? There’s no fucking way to kill a vampire.”

“Of course there is!” Aksel rolled his eyes and snorted.

Eragon stared at him in shock. There was? Brom had never told him that.

“Yeah? Do you know how? Tell me!!”

“Whoa there, Eragon,” Aksel said and put his hands on Eragon’s shoulders. “I’m not gonna tell you how to kill your mate.”

“What if I find myself in a position where I have to?” Eragon countered.

Aksel winced. He looked over Eragon’s shoulder and his fingers drummed against Eragon’s shoulders as he thought.

“Nah, sorry dude, I’m not gonna do it,” Aksel shrugged and let go. “For one, I don’t know every detail and two; it’s not something I want you to carry on your shoulders. So, for now, all I’ll say is that it can be done.”

“No kidding,” Eragon muttered darkly. “Or Murtagh wouldn’t have been able to kill his father.”

Aksel didn’t comment.

“And if a pre-teen can know how, then so can I,” the brunet growled and glared Aksel in the eyes.

The chimera shook his head sadly and crossed his arms. Silence stretched on around them, broken only by the soft sounds of their breathing.

**::OBSESSION::**

The night had fallen long ago. He hadn’t left the house until he had been sure that Thorn had fallen asleep. And even then he had been sure not to make a sound as he left.

Murtagh sat in a tree facing the house, shielded by the few leaves it still carried and the darkness of the night. He closed his eyes and inhaled.

He could count four separate heartbeats, one distinctly smaller than the others. He brushed it off to be a pet of some kind. Most humans had pets these days; the disgusting creatures.

Murtagh jumped down from the tree and walked up to the house. He had no intention of breaking in; not tonight anyway. No, for tonight he just wanted to stake it out.

He had heard of vampires that were fascinated by humans. Personally, he found them uninteresting and just disgusting. They claimed his kind to be vile while they feasted on processed foods and inorganic things? Hypocrites. At least what he ate was organic.

And yet, he had been interested by a boy. A boy that on the outside looked as uninteresting as can be. Sure, Murtagh recognized traits that could describe Eragon as cute or attractive, but that was it. He was just another human. Or rather, he was just another human rider. To think that someone like Eragon was one of the privileged few to have a bond so special like a hydra/human bond. Amazing.

Murtagh chose to ignore that he was one of two proven vampires have had a hydra by their side since the beginning of time. He found that rather overdramatic; he was sure there were more.

He stopped his train of thoughts as he came to a stop. He had checked inside every window; and not one of the rooms had hosted Eragon. Interesting. They most likely kept him inside a windowless room. Murtagh sniggered. As if that could stop him.

He strolled to the back of the house; where he had been standing just hours ago quarrelling with none other than Brom Teller. Murtagh found it ironic that he had sought out the one man that could positively identify him; the one man he had fled from just a few months ago.

There was something interesting about Brom as well. Murtagh had seen him a handful of times in his childhood, and it was enough to make him wonder in the present. He could still remember Morzan’s face the first time Brom had stumbled upon them. Morzan had never been quite the same again.

Back then Murtagh hadn’t recognized the signs, but he did now. He wondered if Brom knew. Maybe, maybe not. It didn’t really matter. It wouldn’t have changed Murtagh’s actions.

He felt a shiver run through him. Odd, that hadn’t happened before. Murtagh raised a hand and laid it over his heart; his cold and still heart. And to think that even though it couldn’t be felt; the heart pumped blood through his body. Murtagh knew; he had seen it in person. The heart of a vampire did beat; just too softly and slowly for others to notice.

A noise woke Murtagh from his thoughts. He jumped back into the shadows. He didn’t need to strain his eyes to see what was happening inside the house, he was a creature of the night after all. A light had come on in the living room, but just the one. Most likely it was just someone coming to get something from the kitchen. Murtagh snorted and turned to leave.

But then he saw him; he saw Eragon.

Murtagh licked his lips. Never mind what he had thought before; Eragon was beautiful. And that was just why he had to have him; even if that meant killing him later. Fate was cruel after all.

He ached to step forward, to claim Eragon now, but he knew couldn’t. He would without a doubt be noticed before he could come close enough. What a shame.

He turned to leave again when he noticed something else. Eragon’s shirt, it seemed to fall strangely over his stomach as he stood in profile. Murtagh frowned. He watched as the brunet walked into the kitchen and disappeared. Thirty or so seconds later he came back, wiping the back of his hand over his mouth. No doubt Eragon had had something to drink.

Murtagh felt his eyes widen when Eragon’s hand stroked his stomach and a half-smile bloomed on his face. Then Eragon walked across the living room and back through the door he had come. The lights flickered off.

Murtagh realised it now. He wondered how he could have been so naïve. It all fit now.

Eragon was pregnant.

And there was going to be hell to pay.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> **Andelan Vocabulary:**    
>  _Ghalack_ – A swear word. Means "bastard"  
>  _Bloyean_ – The word for "vampire"


	8. The Burden

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I want to take a moment to thank everyone for their kind comments and reviews. You guys are _awesome._ :) And in commemoration of Halloween and all the awesomeness that contains, I've decided to upload the next chapter. I hope you enjoy.
> 
> A little warning. From here-on the story will contain some minor characters. A few of them do not appear "on screen" in the Inheritance Cycle, but they are mentioned nonetheless. This chapter in particular contains Kialandi, who was a member of CP's Forsworn. The real gender of Kialandi has come forth since I wrote this story, and while the original Kialandi was male I have decided to leave Kialandi as female here. 
> 
> _**Word**_ – word written in my language Andelan

_::October::_

When Thorn woke up, he instantly knew something was wrong. It was quiet, too quiet.

“Murtagh?”                                                                 

He wasn’t sure why he bothered to call out to his rider; he was almost 100 percent positive that Murtagh wasn’t there. Thorn checked the shack anyway. Empty. Thorn ran two hands through his hair. Holy shit, how had he gotten past him?! Even in his sleep Thorn knew he was sensitive to noises. Murtagh would have had to be soundless to get out without waking a hydra.

“Fuck,” Thorn growled.

He changed in a flash and stormed out of the shack. He searched the immediate perimeter, but nothing. He cursed again and called the first person on his list.

 _“Do you have any fucking idea what time it is?”_ a voice growled huskily.

“Vanir, have you heard from Murtagh?” Thorn asked before the magician could continue his obviously angered triad.

 _“...No,”_ Vanir sounded much more awake now. _“Thorn, what’s going on?”_

“Murtagh’s bailed on me,” Thorn cursed and gripped his hair with his other hand tightly. “Oh fuck!”

_“Calm down and tell me what’s happened.”_

“Murtagh went to see the kid yesterday, but the old man wouldn’t let him past. But Teller told Murtagh that Eragon had a mate now; though he didn’t say who,” the hydra paused. “And now I can’t find the bastard.”

 _“Do you know when he left?”_ Vanir asked calmly.

Thorn felt the urge to punch the magician for sounding so calm.

“No!” Thorn growled. “He must have left after I fell asleep; so he has potentially a seven hour head-start.”

 _“Well, fuck,”_ Vanir drawled. _“You better call that girlfriend of yours. I’ll check around after Murtagh.”_

Thorn didn’t bother to say anything else. He hung up and instantly dialled Saphira’s number.

 _“Thorn?”_ Saphira answered groggily.

“Murtagh’s gone.”

 _“...”_ it was silent on the other line. _“What?”_

Thorn had expected a louder reply and really didn’t like the fact that Saphira sounded calm either.

“He slipped out during the night. God, I’m such a bad **_mneda_**!” Thorn groaned. “What am I gonna do?!”

 _“Thorn, you need to calm down,”_ Saphira said soothingly. _“I’m here with Eragon right now, and he’s fine. Nothing has happened to him.”_

Thorn breathed out in relief. He sank down on the porch and put his face in his vacant hand.

Suddenly something came to him. A dread filled him.

“What of that chimera? Is he with you?” he asked quietly.

 _“Who, Aksel? No, he lives by himself. In a dorm, actually,”_ Saphira sounded a little confused. _“Why?”_

“Because if I was a vampire who had just found out that someone had claimed the one I had interest in, I’d want to remove that person,” Thorn said and stood up.

_“...Oh God, no! Aksel!!”_

Thorn didn’t answer her. He had already started running, and was filled with a sense of relief that, as a hydra, he was built to move fast. He would probably be in the city in ten minutes.

The only question was if that was too late. Murtagh could have been gone all night for all Thorn knew.

 _“Brom’s calling Aksel right now. Just stay on, Thorn,”_ Saphira told him firmly.

Thorn had no intention of hanging up, not even if Murtagh himself decided to call.

 _“He says that there’s no answer!”_ Saphira exclaimed frantically. _“Oh, oh God. I have to get over there!”_

“No, you need to stay with Eragon.”

 _“Brom can watch over him for a while. Are you far away?”_ Saphira asked, and Thorn could hear her start to move around.

“Five minutes,” he replied.

_“Good. When you get to the city, go straight to Eragon. I’ll call you if I find anything.”_

“Good luck,” Thorn said hoarsely. “If anything has happened...”

 _“I know, I’ll be careful,”_ she told him before hanging up.

Thorn swore. When he got his hands on Murtagh, he was dead!!

**::OBSESSION::**

Saphira had barely had time to explain everything to Brom and Eragon before running out. Brom had promised to call Arya and said that she would meet her there.

Saphira ran as fast as she could, though in the deepest corner of her mind a voice was whispering that she was already too late. She pushed it back. She was not too late, she was not!

The building came into view and she ran through the doors. She was on the second floor in a second. Arya just gotten out of the elevator when Saphira stepped onto the floor. The girls just exchanged brief nods before stalking to Aksel’s apartment.

“I have a key,” Arya just managed to say before they turned the corner.

Saphira gasped. They wouldn’t need the key; there was no door to use it on.

“Aksel!” Arya gasped and ran inside.

Saphira walked in, more cautiously than her friend, and made sure to look after any shady shadows or figures.

So far, so good.

“Anything?” Saphira asked as she turned to look at her friend.

Arya didn’t answer. She was too busy staring at the mess. She raised a hand to her mouth and stifled a sob.

The room was a mess. It was obvious that someone had struggled there. The chairs were overturned, the table was broken and the bed had collapsed. Debris from the walls was staining the floor white. The sheets were mostly just messed up, but Saphira gasped when she saw blood. Small oddities were lying everywhere.

Saphira walked around Arya and looked out from the window. Below it, the ground looked disturbed. The hydra blinked and activated her eyes. She then began to scout the grounds.

“Do you see him?” Arya asked softly.

“No,” Saphira pursed her lips.

This wasn’t good. Could Murtagh have chased Aksel off somewhere? She bit her lip hard and looked at the right side of the buildings. That was where the forest was. Could they have gone through there?

“Arya!” Saphira grabbed her friend’s hand and pulled her out of the room.

They ran down the stairs and were on the ground floor in less than a minute. Then Saphira steered them towards the trees.

“AKSEL!” Arya cried out when they saw his form.

Saphira made sure to search the perimeter around them before checking on her friend. Arya was already on her knees, pulling a hand through Aksel’s hair and begging him to wake up.

The hydra sat down and looked over Aksel’s form. He was riddled with seemingly hundredths of bruises and cuts. She checked his throat and, to her surprise, found no bite mark. His left leg looked a little odd; he had most likely hurt it while jumping out of the window. His knuckles had bruises, meaning that he had somehow managed to fight back.

Saphira leaned down to listen to his breathing. The swelling on his neck stood out quite horribly. It looked like someone had tried to choke him with their bare hands. His stomach looked purple from the amount of hits it had taken and his chest, just above his heart, had been clawed at.

Saphira clenched her eyes shut and forced herself to focus on his breathing. It was shallow, but it was there. He was alive!

She sat up in a flash and pulled out her cell phone.

“Thorn, I need you to get that magician friend of yours and get him to come to Brom’s house ASAP,” Saphira barked out before Thorn could as much as say hello. “Aksel’s alive, but barely breathing.”

_“Understood.”_

Saphira put away her cell and looked at Arya. Tears were marring her cheeks, but her face didn’t radiate sorrow. Anger; Arya was angry.

“If I ever meet that vampire, I’m going to kill him,” Arya said venomously.

“I second that,” Saphira said and crouched down. “Can you take his feet? We need to carry him back.”

“Is that wise?” Arya asked, though she moved to stand by Aksel’s feet.

“I can’t be sure, but it’s the only thing we can do,” Saphira said gravely. “Come on, we need to leave!”

**::OBSESSION::**

Eragon watched as Thorn paced around the room, his hand gripping his cell phone almost to destruction. The hydra had arrived just five minutes earlier and had been talking to his magician friend. Eragon instantly knew that something was wrong.

Vanir showed up surprisingly fast. When asked, the male had simply replied that when Murtagh was involved, it was better to be early than to be late. Eragon hadn’t asked what that had meant.

Saphira and Arya arrived two minutes later. When Eragon saw Aksel, he had nearly thrown up.

“Lay him on the couch,” Brom told them and locked the door tightly.

“Good God,” Vanir muttered darkly. “Is this Murtagh’s work?”

Thorn just sneered.

The girls moved into the bedroom and laid Aksel’s still form onto the couch. Brom had already laid towels on it, and had installed the room with several medical equipments, most of them from Brom’s own stash. ‘Just in case’, as he had said.

Eragon sank down into an armchair and watched soundlessly as Vanir got to work. He only spoke up to ask Arya to wash his wounds as he mixed something on the table. Vanir worked flawlessly, without even looking like he was making an effort. Eragon watched his hands work and almost didn’t dare to blink. It was better to watch them than to stare at Aksel after all.

Vanir put down whatever he had made and moved back to Aksel. Arya had just finished washing him and stepped back, her hands shaking slightly. Vanir’s hand began to glow the same soft green that Eragon could remember from Vanir’s other visit.

“He’s got a broken leg, a few fractured ribs...” Vanir furrowed his eyebrows. “...a slightly damaged lung, a dislocated shoulder, a few torn up muscles -”

“How?!” Arya growled.

“I never question how vampires do half of what they do,” Vanir told her frankly. “His heart is beating a little irregularly and his throat is severely bruised. He has a slight concussion as well. Apart from that, he’s still alive. There’s no vampire venom in him either.”

“That’s odd,” Thorn spoke up quietly. “Are you saying that _he_ never bit Aksel?”

The magician just nodded.

“What does that mean?!” Arya spat.

“That Murtagh never actually tried to kill Aksel,” Brom spoke softly.

Arya glared at him.

“AND WHAT DO YOU CALL **THAT**?!” she shrieked.

“What he’s saying is that if Murtagh had bit him, Aksel would have been dead already,” Vanir said and gently forced Aksel to drink the mixture he had prepared. “This looks just like someone taking out their rage on someone.”

Thorn scowled darkly.

The room fell silent again. Vanir slowly began to rub salves on Aksel and started to bandage him up. Eragon wondered for a minute why they weren’t taking him to a hospital.

Eragon’s eyes widened when he saw Vanir’s hand suddenly glow a dark green and a crack echoed in the silent room. Aksel uttered a pained moan. Then Vanir’s hand moved up to his ribs and two more cracks sounded. A nasty pop echoed sickly when Vanir fixed Aksel’s shoulder. Eragon genuinely wondered how the chimera could stay asleep, or knocked out as it were, through the pain.

Vanir wrapped up the last of his cuts and stood up. He brushed off his hands and sighed tiredly.

“Murtagh will not be happy when you encounter him, Thorn,” he said calmly and started to pack up.

“Where is he?” Thorn growled dangerously.

Vanir closed the flap on his bag and threw the strap over his shoulder. He stared at Thorn for a long time before he answered.

“ ** _Jhan kar tahl ib sunan, mol taan jhan at gaa. Dan ej tra zalj klam wye jhan at soor._** ** _Vel ej fa noil xal,_** ” he spoke somberly.

Thorn snarled. His hands curled into tight fists.

“How soon?” he asked.

“Too soon,” Vanir sighed.

“I have to go,” Thorn said to the whole room. “I will stay in touch.”

Eragon could only blink and then Thorn was gone. He stared the spot he had just been standing at, confused over how someone could be so fast. Then again, Thorn wasn’t exactly human.

“The chimera should make full recovery,” the magician said and straightened. “The bandages will make his cuts heal cleanly and more quickly. He should wake up soon too.”

“Thank you for your help,” Brom said and held out his hand.

Vanir looked at in genuine surprise. He reached out slowly and shook it. Then he turned and left.

Arya was instantly by her brother’s side, cradling the hand that was the least beaten up. She was still shaking slightly.

“Where’s Nasuada?” Saphira asked softly.

“At work,” Arya croaked. “I left her a voice message. She’ll come when she gets it.”

Saphira sat down beside her and took her hand in hers. Eragon watched as Arya slowly relaxed a little more. Obviously hydra magic didn’t just work on their riders.

“What do you make of this, sir?” Saphira asked quietly.

Brom slowly sat down in another chair and folded his hands.

“This is a very disturbing turn of events,” he said into the silence. “I never meant to get Murtagh this angry.”

“What?!” Arya hissed.

“I tried to rile him up a bit,” Brom said softly. “But I didn’t give any hints that it was Aksel.”

“He’s never even met him!” Saphira exclaimed.

Eragon felt the colour leave his face.

“No, but he has smelled him,” he said hoarsely. “On me.”

“But that was months ago!” Arya cut in.

“Oh, when it comes to their mates, vampires can remember smells or a person’s face for decades,” Brom said gravely.

“But was what happened yesterday enough to make him this angered?” Saphira asked softly.

“It appears so,” the older man replied tiredly.

“He, he couldn’t know, could he?” Eragon stuttered. “That I’m pregnant?”

“No. No, why do you ask that?” the hydra said and frowned.

“...I, um...I got thirsty last night...”

Silence. Eragon winced and prepared himself for the explosion.

“So you went into the kitchen alone!?!” Saphira shrieked. “ERAGON!”

“I’m sorry! I was thirsty, I was tired and I obviously wasn’t thinking!” he replied.

“OBVIOUSLY!” Saphira snarled. “Eragon, how could you?! What if he did see you, huh? What if he does know!? What do we do then??”

The room fell silent again. Brom let out a loud and tired sigh.

“We do nothing until we hear back from Thorn. Until we know for sure, we won’t make any quick and hasty decisions. All we know is that Murtagh isn’t here, and for that we should consider ourselves lucky.”

Eragon hung his head. He wasn’t so sure about that.

**::OBSESSION::**

Thorn tried to keep his breathing calm, but found it almost impossible. Murtagh had never been that violent before; not even when he had been fighting for his life. Oh, he may not have bitten Aksel, but that could mean that he wanted Aksel to die a slow and painful death. When it came to Murtagh, Thorn took nothing for granted.

He reached out and tried to feel his rider’s conscious and wasn’t surprised when he yet again didn’t feel anything. Either Murtagh was too far away, or he was doing a very good job of blocking him out. And seeing as Thorn was nearing the shack he was positive that Murtagh was long gone by now.

Thorn snarled as he entered the house. He glared around in the first room before stalking over to Murtagh’s room. It was empty. He let out a loud yell and punched the wall. He didn’t even blink in surprise when it went straight through. The hydra pulled it out effortlessly and walked to check his own room. No Murtagh, and Thorn’s things was still there.

Thorn ran a hand through his hair and sighed angrily.

“You absolute fuckhead!” he growled into the silent room.

He shook his head and turned around, stalking back into the living room. He glanced over at the kitchen by chance and stopped in his tracks when he noticed a note. Thorn ran over and picked it up. It was written in _Andelan_. Murtagh had obviously been worried someone was going to pick it up and read it. Thorn read it over, his mind translating it effortlessly.

 **_T_ ** _horn,_

_Yes, I know that you’re going to kill me when you catch up with me. Good luck with that, by the way. I’m not going to say why I did it; you can figure that out for yourself. Don’t bother to come after me; you won’t find me. You can go and live with that girlfriend of yours and live happily ever after._

_It’s been fun, these last few years. I’ll never understand just how the hell you managed to stay by my side for so long. But whatever._

_See you in hell,_

_Murtagh._

The hydra was silent for a minute. He read it over again before snarling loudly. Was Murtagh doing what he thought he was doing?!

“You moron!” Thorn shouted.

He flipped the note around and noticed to his surprise that Murtagh had written something else.

 **_P_ ** _S; Yes, I do realise what I’m doing._

Thorn stared at the words in shock. Did that mean..?

He blinked. He willed the note to say something else, but the rest of the page remained blank. Thorn swore loudly. He pocketed the note, ran out of the shack, remembering to lock it this time, and ran towards the train station. If he was fast enough, maybe he would catch Murtagh before it was too late.

**::OBSESSION::**

Murtagh examined his fingernails as he waited. Just how long would it take for a bus to get there, anyway?

He scowled when he noticed that there was still some blood under his nails. How troublesome. He would have to wash his hands more properly later. He slipped on his gloves again and sighed.

He wondered if he had done the right thing, leaving that last note. He was sure Thorn would flip out when he read it. But then again, Thorn flipped out an awful lot. Murtagh snorted and shook his head. It would be nice to be alone for a while; not having to listen to Thorn’s constant chatter and nagging.

But still, he knew it would be lonely. But he was used to it.

The bus finally arrived and Murtagh walked up to stand in line. He hadn’t really cared where he was going; just asked for a ticket to the first bus that was leaving. He chose to go by bus rather than by train; because if Thorn found his note a little too quickly he would need the extra time to slip away. Thorn was just too good for his own good sometimes.

Murtagh found a seat in the back and slipped into the window-seat. He put down his bag beside him and leaned back. He would need to get comfortable; it was going to be a long trip.

He sighed and closed his eyes. He set his watch to go off in three hours and slipped the hood to cover his eyes. It was time he caught up on the sleep he had missed. It had been a busy night after all.

**::OBSESSION::**

Thorn swore colourfully. He glared up at the message board and saw that almost every bus or train was going southwards. He swore again, earning a few strange looks from people around him, and stalked to the ticket booths.

He was lucky and managed to slip in front of a large family that would no doubt have used up a lot of time, time he didn’t have.

“Hi, how can I help you?” the girl before him asked cheerfully.

“Have you seen my friend by chance? He’s got dark hair, hazel eyes, pale skin, about this high and smirks a lot?” Thorn asked and showed Murtagh’s estimated height.

The girl frowned slightly. Her eyes lit up and Thorn breathed out in relief.

“Why yes, he was here just twenty minutes ago,” she replied.

“What ticket did he buy?! It’s vital that you tell me!” Thorn demanded.

“Well, he just asked for the first bus that was going. It left five minutes ago,” the girl said and backed away from him slightly. “I’m sorry.”

Thorn swore. He gripped his hair tightly and pulled.

“Can you please tell me which bus?”

“The 410, sir. It’s the Surdan express, though it stops at any major cities in-between,” she said and reached out beside her. “Are you Thorn by any chance?”

Thorn looked at her. He blinked and raised an eyebrow.

“Yes, why?” he narrowed his eyes suspiciously.

“Your friend left this for you,” she said and gave him an envelope.

Thorn just nodded mutely. He moved out of the line and stared down at the envelope.

It was plain enough. The only words written on it was; _Thorn, PPS._ The redhead ripped it open and pulled out the note inside.

 **_P_ ** _PS; I just realised I owe you something. You’ve always wanted to know, right? How you can kill me? Well, here you go._

Thorn’s eyes widened. There it was, step by step how Murtagh had killed his own father. There were no gory details or personal comments, just a simple step-to guide on how to kill a vampire. Thorn nearly dropped the note.

 **_U_ ** _se it as you see fit. I figured it was time I evened out the odds. All the best luck to you._

It was minutes before Thorn was able to pick up the phone and call Saphira. It was not every day he stumbled across such information, after all. And now that he had it, he wasn’t sure what he was going to do with it.

**::OBSESSION::**

Aksel woke up a few minutes before Thorn arrived. The blond hadn’t been able to speak much, but Eragon could see that he was obviously in pain. Arya and Brom had guided him to a guestroom where he could stay until further notice.

Eragon briefly wondered if Brom was getting tired of all the youngsters that were staying with him.

When Thorn arrived, Eragon didn’t have to ask what had happened. It was written all over the hydra’s face; Murtagh had gotten away.

“He left me these,” Thorn said and pulled an envelope out of his pocket.

Saphira took it out of his hands and led Thorn over to the couch. Eragon sat curled in the other one. Brom had finally dug out an old curtain and had hung it in front of the terrace doors. Even if Murtagh wasn’t around, no one could look inside anymore.

“The prick actually bailed on me,” Thorn said bluntly. “And then he sees fit to dump that crap in my lap!?”

Saphira frowned. She had read over the first note and flipped it over to read the back. Eragon however was staring at the second one. It was long; longer than the first. For some reason, he found himself looking for words he recognized.

“Don’t bother, Eragon,” Thorn sighed. “There are no words you know there.”

Eragon blinked.

“Sometimes I really wonder if hydras aren’t mind-readers as well.”

Thorn gave him a half-smirk.

“Thorn, I...” Saphira bit her lip and folded the first note in two. “He doesn’t sound quite...right.”

“He isn’t,” the redhead said gruffly. “Especially when you read that second note.”

Saphira bit her lip and did so. Eragon watched as her eyes widened and her mouth opened in shock.

“My God...is he serious?” she whispered.

“Very,” Thorn answered. “I’ve always wondered how he did it, but that doesn’t mean I wanted to know.”

Saphira’s hands were shaking by the time she folded the second note together. She stuffed it into the envelope and pushed it back into Thorn’s hands.

“You bury or burn that thing,” she said firmly.

“What’s going on?” Eragon asked.

“Murtagh has been kind enough to let me know that he’s suicidal,” Thorn drawled. “Well, as suicidal as a vampire can get. He’s told me how to kill him.”

The heart stopped in Eragon’s chest. He could remember telling Aksel that he wanted to know how just the night before. But now, now he was pretty sure he didn’t want to know anymore.

“What does that mean?” Eragon murmured.

“I’m not sure. But I’m almost positive he saw you last night, and if he did that...” the male hydra shook his head. “I can’t say what I think is going on in his mind right now. Did he go after Aksel because he felt betrayed or enraged? Or does he actually know the truth and is running from it?”

“Wait...he genuinely thinks that Aksel is...?” the brunet blinked. “Oh holy... _shit_.”

Thorn lowered his head.

“I think he does. If not, he would have come for you,” he looked up. “And right now he’s running as far away from you as possible.”

“He can’t just be running from you instead?” Saphira asked Thorn quietly.

“Maybe...I don’t know,” Thorn gripped his head. “All I know is that I didn’t intend for this to happen when I tried to open him up.”

Saphira reached out and hugged him. Eragon watched with a slight hint of sadness as Thorn pulled Saphira to him and hugged her back tightly. It was strange to see someone so big look so lost.

“Will you go after him?” Saphira whispered.

Eragon smiled sadly. He gently got to his feet and prepared to go. Saphira looked at him then and shook her head. She motioned for him to sit back down. He did so slowly.

“I should,” Thorn sighed tiredly. “I really, really should. The idiot can get seriously sick out there without me.”

“And?”

The redhead sighed again.

“And I will. I’ll drag Vanir with me, though. And Eragon, I’m sorry, but I will need some more blood from you.”

Eragon blinked.

“Um, sure, whatever,” he shrugged.

“I’ll...be back tomorrow,” Thorn stood up. “I need to pack a few things and convince Vanir to come with me. God, this is going to cost me.”

Saphira smiled softly. Eragon looked away and only heard them embrace again. Then he only heard the soft creak as the outer door was closed. He looked back and jumped when he found Saphira sitting crouched in front of him.

“I’m sorry,” he whispered.

“Why?”

“For causing so much trouble,” Eragon winced. “If I had just -”

“Don’t blame yourself,” Saphira said gently and ran a hand over his forehead, gently tugging on his bangs. “You couldn’t have known.”

“But I did!” Eragon protested.

“Well, then blaming yourself isn’t going to help anything,” Saphira said dryly. “Let’s go and see how Aksel is doing, shall we?”

Eragon nodded mutely.

He wasn’t sure what to think or what to focus on anymore. Aksel had nearly been beaten to death, and all he could think about was Murtagh’s disappearance. That and Murtagh’s letter.

The baby kicked softly and he startled. He was so caught up in things these days that it was almost easy to think that he wasn’t pregnant, that he wasn’t about to give birth in two and a half months, seeing as he would need to have a c-section before the nine months were over. Eragon winced. Yeah, he did not want to think about cutting right now.

Saphira tugged on his hand and brought him back to the present. She opened the door and pulled him inside. Eragon just sighed and sent Aksel a smile.

Right now he was going to focus on Aksel; the blond deserved that much.

**::OBSESSION::**

Murtagh hadn’t realise how far south he had ventured until he realised he could see the Beor Mountains clearly. He had overslept apparently, though he had no idea how he had managed to do that.

He hopped off the bus at the next station as the only one and sighed. There was a reason he hated to go so far south, and it wasn’t because of the small population of creatures. In fact, it was quite the opposite.

All sorts of creatures were spread all over Alagaësia; elves, werewolves, dragons, chimeras, magicians; but there were also places where each species could be found at a larger scale. The elves had only begun to venture out from the forest of Du Weldenvarden, dragons mainly stayed near the Beor Mountains and the west side of the Hadarac Desert, werewolves stayed near the north-east coast, along the Spine in particular, and the magicians mainly preferred to stay in the middle of nowhere inside of the country; close to the desert for instance. But vampires too had somewhere they preferred as well, and that was near the south-east part of the coast and the islands outside of Alagaësia.

Murtagh wasn’t sure how it was inside Surda as he had never been there. He was far too likely to be recognized as what he was there, and that was just too huge of a risk to take.

And currently, much to his displeasure, Murtagh found himself in vampire domain. He would have to lay low inside the city and not venture too close to the coast cities. He and Thorn had ended up in Feinster once by mistake, and it was there that Thorn had realised just how much Murtagh hated his own kind. The vampire was not eager to stumble across old acquaintances.

Murtagh looked up at the sun. It would be setting soon. While winter wasn’t upon them just yet, the sun was on borrowed time. It would get dark very soon.

It didn’t take him long to find an old abandoned farm. It was in an alright shape, more than enough for a coldblooded creature like him, Murtagh thought dryly. He fixed what he could and bolted the door. He could use one of the windows to get in and out.

The day turned into night before Murtagh was done. He then dug out a sandwich from his bag and started to eat.

Contrary to popular belief, vampires did eat. Though they could go on for days without eating, normal food that was, Murtagh often felt compelled to eat. His father had tried to scorn the habit out of him, and Murtagh had started it again when the man had died; if not out of spite, then for the sole reason to keep himself from killing too many. As much as he loved killing, he didn’t want to be caught.

Once Morzan had passed on, Murtagh had started to look up about his heritage and the myths about what he was. He knew what he was; he was a vampire; but just what did that mean? He knew he could eat ‘normal’ food, something his father refused to do, he could sleep and his strength just continued to grow, but what else did he have in store? He had read book after book, always searching for the right one that would teach him just what he was. Then he found it, the one book that changed his life. That was when Murtagh realised just what it meant to be a **_bloyean_** ; a ‘pure vampire’.

A pure vampire, unlike the other vampires that had been bitten, had to go through two puberties; one for their ‘normal’ side and one for their vampire side. That meant twice the amount of hormones and emotions, but most of all; it meant the arrival of the bloodlust, _the hunger_ , along with everything else. That was the reason Murtagh had hated his father so. Because of his genes, Murtagh would be basically unable to resist the hunger. He had experienced that time and time again during his teenage years. He had killed mercilessly and many at a time. His hunger would not be sated.

Thankfully he had had Thorn by his side. Thorn who had found him when Murtagh had been eleven years old and terrified of what the books were saying he would become. Thorn had helped him through the anxieties and had given him a speck of hope. Murtagh knew he had been a cold and angsty child, even with Thorn beside him, but he had felt better once the hydra had promised to stay. But then he hit thirteen and everything had changed.

Murtagh had been nothing short of a killing machine. He had drunk off of least four people a week for almost a year before Thorn had managed to stop him. It had been a rough time after that, trying to eat with what Thorn called ‘moderation’. But the hunger in him had been so strong that Murtagh usually couldn’t go a week without at least feeding once. And it had gotten worse. But while he had been a teenager, he had killed a lot more people. As an adult Murtagh had learned to hold back a little. But it didn’t matter.

The book had told him something else; it had spoken of the monster that was inside of him. Murtagh later realised it referred to the sadistic tendencies **_bloyeanen_** tended to show. Morzan had never scolded him for playing with his food when he had been younger; rather he had encouraged him to do so. Murtagh had refused. Then he had turned sixteen. Suddenly playing with his food was fun. He could make one person last for several days; providing him with more meals than just one. He had also found a new way to play with his prey. Instead of just drinking to his heart’s content, he could arouse them first. Murtagh acknowledged that he was good looking, and he used it to his advantage.

From then on he had either tortured someone for a few days, providing himself with everything from one meal to three or four and he had started to sexually arouse people. He found that the blood tasted sweeter when the person was aroused. Also, it was a new way to release tension.

When his father had explained what he was to become, he had called him a ‘perfect predator’. Murtagh at that time hadn’t known what his father had meant. That was partly why he had started to look up vampire lores until he had found what he had been looking for. He knew what his father had meant now. He was indeed a perfect predator; he left no trace behind, didn’t get attached and was easily stronger than most creatures around. It was no wonder the old vampire coven had wanted him.

The dark haired man wasn’t quite sure when his father’s coven had found him, but he reckoned it to be when he had been seventeen or eighteen. They had tried to lure him into their midst, promising him a place in the council one day, his father’s riches, as many companions as he’d like and so on. Murtagh had found it all to be rather vile. He had rudely turned them down and had never entered the city again. Until he had wound up in Feinster and had encountered one of them again.

“And what do we have here?”

Murtagh froze. That wasn’t just a memory, he was sure of that. Someone was there with him, and he had a feeling he knew who.

“A little vampire, lost in the foreign domain of Furnost. And all alone too,” the voice giggled. “Where is your dragon, _rider_?”

Murtagh snarled and turned around. He wasn’t surprised when no one was there. He slowly pulled out the knife from the holster attached to his belt. Outside the wind howled eerily. Murtagh turned on his heel, pulled out his knife, and pressed it against the pale throat of the woman standing before him.

“What are you doing here?” Murtagh growled.

The woman smirked. Her eyes glimmered more red than black in the dark, her black hair flowing around her face and contrasting almost beautifully against her pale skin.

“Can’t an old friend come to visit?”

“You’re no friend of mine,” Murtagh snarled and pressed the knife harder against the woman’s throat. “What do you want, Kialandi?”

Kialandi laughed almost musically. Murtagh held back a shudder. Even though it may have sounded beautiful to others, it was torture to his ears.

“I came to give you the same offer I gave you the last time,” Kialandi smirked.

“And I decline again,” the younger man snarled and took a step back, lowering the knife slowly. “Now leave.”

“Aww, how rude.”

“I’m sorry, let me rephrase that,” Murtagh drawled. “Fuck off.”

The older vampire giggled. Murtagh glared at her.

“Such spirit in you, Murtagh,” Kialandi licked her lips. “You haven’t changed at all.”

“Then you should know better than to come back, you bitch,” Murtagh hissed and put his knife away.

“One can always hope.”

“You can stick your hope where the sun doesn’t shine,” he growled in return. “Now get the fuck out of here.”

Murtagh turned around and stormed out of the room. He didn’t care how Kialandi had come, as long as she left.

“Not so fast, Murtagh,” Kialandi said smugly.  “I didn’t come alone this time.”

He froze again. He turned around and snarled.

“Leave me the fuck alone, you freak! I’m not coming with you!”

“It doesn’t matter, you don’t get a say in this,” Kialandi’s eyes twinkled creepily as she grinned.

Murtagh barely had the time to open his mouth before he was attacked. A second later everything went dark.

**::OBSESSION::**

Thorn woke up sweating. His heart was thundering in his chest and for the first time in a long while, he could remember what he had dreamt.

_Murtagh._

“Vanir, get up,” he said gruffly and shook the sleeping magician beside him.

Vanir grunted and opened one eye to glare at him.

They had stopped in Dras Leona to sleep, but only because Vanir had complained and there were no buses travelling at that hour of the night. Thorn could have continued on, but seeing as he was used to travelling with a vampire and not a magician, things were bound to change.

“We’ve slept for six hours, that will have to be enough,” Thorn said and packed his stuff together, the little he had taken out of his bag anyway. “Murtagh’s in trouble.”

Vanir groaned loudly.

“Can’t the asshole stay out of trouble for one lousy minute?”

“This is Murtagh we’re talking about,” Thorn drawled. “Of course not. And if my gut is right, he’s run into the worst kind of trouble there is.”

Vanir was silent. Thorn turned around and saw to his surprise that Vanir had already packed and was grabbing the key to the room.

“Well?” he grunted. “If it’s vampire trouble he’s in, we need to leave now.”

Thorn smirked softly and followed the black haired man.

They bought tickets to the bus and got on the first one. Thorn had been a little sceptical about travelling that way, but seeing as that was the way Murtagh had left, the chances of picking up his trail was easier if they travelled down the same route. So far Thorn had been unable to sense his rider anywhere, and it was getting quite irritating.

Thorn was determined to make Murtagh answer his questions. Murtagh had never been reckless before, and there was no other way to describe his recent behaviour but just that; reckless.

Something was wrong, so wrong that Murtagh himself might not even realise it. And Thorn suspected that it was the mate bond that was the cause of Murtagh’s strange behaviour. Because no matter how much he would deny it later, the vampire had acted in a jealous and possessive rage when he had attacked the chimera. The fact that Murtagh had spared Aksel’s life spoke more than the attack itself, though. Thorn didn’t dare to put much hope on his hypothesis, but if what he suspected was right, then maybe the thought of having a mate wasn’t so lost to Murtagh after all.

“What’s going through your mind?” Vanir drawled grumpily.

Thorn was surprised that Vanir was making conversation. The magician hated small talk even more than Murtagh did. But he wasn’t about to say no when Vanir first started talking.

“Tag’s behaviour,” Thorn answered quietly. “It puzzles me.”

The hydra was glad that they were in an empty bus, beside themselves and the driver of course. It was easier to make sure they weren’t overheard that way. Even so, he referred to Murtagh as Tag in public.

“If you’re referring to his psychotic outburst that nearly maimed that chimera, then I agree,” Vanir yawned and crossed his arms over his chest. “I’ve never seen anything like it before.”

“Oh?”

Vanir looked at him.

“I’ve treated my fair share of territorial battle wounds, but none like his,” the magician said with a sigh. “He wasn’t just angry, he was pissed off. While he never used his vampire side as an advantage, he did try to take that boy’s life.”

Thorn knew that too. But it had looked like Murtagh had stopped, for the claw marks over Aksel’s heart hadn’t been that deep. It looked like he had started, but then suddenly stopped. Strange indeed.

“Though, what made him stop?” Vanir just shrugged.

“I have been thinking about that,” Thorn wetted his lips. “Could it be that he sensed that Eragon could be upset if he did it?”

Vanir turned to look at him properly. The magician raised an eyebrow.

“You’re talking about advanced bonding traits that cannot be present with a couple that hasn’t even started to like each other,” he said dryly.

“You know that Tag doesn’t like people, he tolerates,” Thorn paused. “Or obsesses.”

“What?” Vanir said in an annoyed tone.

“I just, I feel like we’re missing something,” the hydra murmured quietly. “He’s obsessed with Eragon, I know he is. The day we went to Eragon he was talking about how addictive Eragon’s blood was. That’s not like him.”

“Yes, that does point to a certain degree of obsession,” the dark haired one mused.

“Especially if you add that he kept saying that Eragon would be his,” Thorn raised an eyebrow.

“That’s horribly out of character,” Vanir blurted out.

“And if he’s feeling these things right now, confused about why he cares so much about Eragon and why everything is so confusing...and he’s in the hands of the coven,” Thorn pursed his lips.

Vanir narrowed his eyes.

“He’s in deep shit.”

“Do you know where the coven is located?” Vanir asked.

Thorn gritted his teeth.

“Unfortunately, no. It’s hidden and we can’t find it unless we follow a vampire there. And they move from place to place to hunt, like Tag did,” he growled. “But that’s where the newspapers come in.”

Vanir unfolded the paper again and looked at it deadpanned. He snorted and looked back at the hydra.

“And you’re sure that we’ll find a vampire there?” he asked.

Thorn looked back at the headline. _Tragic bus accident takes eight lives. Three bodies have yet to be found._ Thorn tapped the picture where the police were searching the lake near the wreck of a bus with his finger, his eyes never leaving Vanir’s.

“I’m sure.”

**::OBSESSION::**

Eragon blinked. Brom had been trying to get Aksel to talk for a long time, but so far the chimera had only sighed or shaken his head.

“Boy, you have to tell us what he did,” Brom said yet again. “It’s vital to hear it. It might clue us in on his state of mind.”

Aksel looked up at him blankly. Eragon didn’t blame him. He hadn’t been very willing to talk to anyone after his own encounters with the vampire, and he had been able to talk to Saphira. Aksel, who didn’t have a personal relationship with Brom, was nowhere as comfortable as he himself had been.

Eragon stood up. He shifted slightly before finding the courage to speak.

“Brom, sir, maybe I should talk to him?”

Brom paused. He looked at Eragon and crocked an eyebrow. A soft hint of a smile entered his lips before he sighed.

“Go ahead, boy,” Brom chuckled. “If you think you can crack him, be my guest. I’ll be right outside the door.”

Eragon nodded and swallowed. His throat suddenly seemed dry. He stood up and walked slowly over to Aksel’s bed. Aksel watched his every step with unblinking eyes.

“So...” Eragon swallowed again.

“I’m not gonna freak,” Aksel said and sighed tiredly. “I just don’t wanna talk about it.”

Aksel had been sitting in the same position since Brom and Eragon had entered. His arms were wrapped loosely around his legs and his chin rested comfortably on his knees. For someone so tall and gangly, Aksel looked surprisingly small and fragile where he sat. The bandages around his throat and soft bruising on his cheek didn’t exactly help his image either.

“I get it,” Eragon shrugged and sat down cross-legged before him. “Did you think I wanted to talk when he attacked me?”

“Which time?” Aksel drawled.

“Both,” the brunet snorted. “Don’t you think it freaked me out too? He literally had my life in his hands two times. It’s a wonder I haven’t gone nuts yet.”

“True,” Aksel smirked softly.

“I know it was _that_ bad, Aksel, but talking helps,” Eragon bit his lip. “We just want to help.”

“Yeah, I know,” the blond sighed tiredly. “But it’s just...when he looked down at me with those eyes...you can’t imagine...”

Eragon raised an eyebrow.

“Right, you actually can,” Aksel let out a soft humourless laugh.

“Did he...say anything to you? I won’t spread it around if you don’t want me to.”

Aksel looked away. His arms tightened around his legs and he sighed.

“Not a lot,” he said softly. “He just looked insane. I mean, literally insane. I’ve never seen eyes like that on anyone. I knew they were supposed to be black, but they **glowed** red, man.”

Eragon just laid his hands in his lap and waited.

“And he kept repeating this one thing,” Aksel pursed his lips. “He just kept saying, _not yours, not yours_ over and over again.”

Eragon’s eyes widened.

“And he did not look well when he said it. He looked like he was in a whole other world,” Aksel said sombrely. “It was as if he wasn’t really there, like he was acting on instinct or something. Or...argh, I dunno.”

“So he was talking about me, then?” Eragon asked hoarsely.

“Oh, most definitely,” Aksel laughed dryly.

“How do you know?” Eragon asked a little too harshly.

Aksel didn’t seem to mind. He lifted a hand and started to tug at the bandages a little.

“Him saying your name kind of gave it away. It was only once, very quietly, but I heard it,” Aksel stared straight into Eragon’s eyes before continuing. “ _Not yours, he’s mine. Eragon’s mine._ ”

Eragon shivered.

“Yup, scared the crap out of me too,” Aksel winced. “He may not know he wants you, but oh, he wants you.”

Eragon sighed. He looked down at his hands before meeting the other’s gaze again.

“We all know he does, the question is just how does he want me, dead or as a mate?”

Aksel didn’t answer, but Eragon didn’t mind. He didn’t have an answer to that question anyway, and he wasn’t sure he wanted one.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> **Andelan Vocabulary:**  
>  _Mneda_ – The word for "hydra", here meaning the hydra half of a rider/hydra bond  
>  _Jhan kar tahl ib sunan, mol taan jhan at gaa. Dan ej tra zalj klam wye jhan at soor. Vel ej fa noil xal._ – Means "He is in the house, but soon he will leave. Then I can only see that he will go south. More I do not know."  
>  _Bloyean_ – The word for "vampire"  
>  _Bloyeanen_ – A form of the word "bloyean". Means "vampires"


	9. The Perfect Predator

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I really want to thank everyone that's still reading and reviewing this old thing of mine. You guys are the best. :) 
> 
> A new character is introduced in this chapter. While I didn't know it at the time, I cast Formora (who also used to be a member of the C.P's Forsworn) as female before her gender was revealed. I got lucky on this one, I guess. ;)
> 
> Beware of descriptions of violence and death in this chapter.

_::October to November::_

Murtagh didn’t have to open his eyes to know where he was. He could smell it, taste it. The air was laced with blood and a soft hint of perfume. The ground he was lying on was hard, and if he could have felt it, he was sure it would have been cold.

He cursed himself as he pushed himself to lie on his back. The floor below him was wet and slimy. He would have to complain to the head of the coven. Vampires were supposed to have better style than this.

Murtagh still couldn’t believe he hadn’t seen it coming. Every time he had ventured that far or that close to Surda, the vampires had visited him. Why should this time be any different? And now he was stuck, taken by the coven of all things. He wondered how he would get out this time. It wasn’t like he had Thorn to break him out.

The vampire crossed his legs and crossed his arms behind his head. He clicked his tongue as he tried to think of possible ways to escape.

He had never actually been taken captive before, and he had been proud of that fact. But all that meant was that he had no idea how to get away. The head would most likely try to persuade him to join them...again. Murtagh wondered how many times he had to tell the man to fuck off before he understood that he would never cave.

The door slowly creaked open. Murtagh didn’t even flinch as the light slid over his eyelids.

“Rise and shine, gorgeous.”

“Fuck off, Kialandi,” Murtagh growled.

“Oh, so rude,” Kialandi said sweetly. “We’ve missed you, _Murtagh_.”

“Stop saying my name like you’re having an orgasm,” Murtagh spat and opened his eyes.

Kialandi smiled and sent him a wink. The shadow behind her melted away as a second female stepped into the doorway. Murtagh held back a groan. Great, **her**.

“For once I’m going to have to agree,” the second female said snobbishly. “It disgusts me.”

“Oh, shut it, Formora,” Kialandi rolled her eyes. “You’re just jealous that he likes me better.”

Formora sneered. Murtagh looked away from her when she glared at him. He already knew how she looked. Her white gold hair fell in waves down her back and her cold black eyes were always shimmering whenever they would meet. Murtagh had seen the look on her face enough times to know when she was angry.

“Oh, believe me, I’m overjoyed he likes you better,” Formora hissed. “I don’t understand why the boss wants him anyway.”

“Because he’s gorgeous,” Kialandi purred. “You of all people should see that.”

Formora sneered and stalked off.

“She hasn’t forgiven me yet?” Murtagh drawled and jumped to his feet.

Kialandi laughed loudly.

“Not even close, babe,” she said and walked off at a much slower pace than her friend.

Murtagh snorted and followed her. He might as well get the meeting over with. He just hoped it would be his only meeting with the head this time around.

The coven was under the control of the council, and currently there was only one member of the coven on the council. There had used to be two, but then Murtagh had killed his father. His father had also used to be the head of the coven, but now it was Morzan’s previous right hand man that was the leader. And Murtagh hated that man almost as much as he hated his father.

“I’m so glad you’re back, Murtagh,” Kialandi purred.

“I won’t be staying,” Murtagh snarled. “Just get me to your fucking boss so I can leave already.”

Kialandi just smirked and led him around another corner. Murtagh pursed his lips as the dark haired woman led up towards a set of large doors. She merely walked up to them and pushed them open. Murtagh snorted at the blatant show of strength. Kialandi smiled sweetly and beckoned him to follow her. Murtagh did so with a sneer on his lips.

“Ah, Murtagh, it’s so good to have you back.”

Murtagh shuddered. There was one voice on the earth that could still make him shudder and that was the voice of the coven’s head.

The man that stepped out of the shadows was dressed, like Kialandi and Formora, in black. Murtagh rolled his eyes at this. His hair was red and hung oily around his sickly pale face. His eyes shimmered more red than black as he stepped closer to Murtagh.

“Fuck you, Durza. Why have you taken me here?” Murtagh sneered.

“To once again give you my generous offer,” Durza smirked. “Join us.”

Murtagh glared at him. Kialandi walked around him and sat down by the large dining table. Formora was already sitting there, glaring at Murtagh as usual. The hazel eyed man just ignored her.

“No thank you,” Murtagh drawled. “I’d rather just remain an outlaw. Now let me go.”

Durza chuckled. There were few people in the world that shouldn’t laugh and Durza was one of them.

“I don’t think so,” he smirked widely. “You see, now that we have you here, and without your precious hydra at that, we’re not letting you go.”

Murtagh clenched his jaw.

“I don’t want to use ranks, Durza, but you’re forcing me to,” he snarled. “Morzan was the head of this coven before he passed. By rights, I outrank you, even though I did kill him and you took his place.”

Durza laughed loudly.

“Whatever rights or ranks you may have possessed are no longer valid,” he said smugly.

“Be careful of what you say, Durza,” Murtagh said darkly. “You do not want to piss me off. I know how to kill you, and I could do it in a flash, before you even had time to move.”

Formora was suddenly there, standing in-between Durza and Murtagh. She sneered and crouched into a protective stance.

“You’d have to get through me.”

Murtagh smirked confidently.

“Not a problem. I’d be happy to.”

“Let’s not fight,” Kialandi purred. “You two should learn to get along if we’re going to be one happy family someday.”

“I’m never going to join your disgusting so-called coven,” Murtagh spat. “I’d rather die.”

Durza’s eyes shimmered with barely contained anger.

“Let’s see what a few days down in the cell will do to you. Just you wait, Murtagh, you’ll be begging to join us within a week.”

“You’ve got to catch me to be able to do that,” Murtagh smirked and was gone.

He hadn’t made it out the doors before he felt someone running after him. He knew who it was without even looking. Out of the three, there was only one that had the skill and speed to catch up with him. And it was just his luck that it was the only one that wanted him dead as well.

Murtagh ran in the opposite direction he had come. He could feel the ground rise under him as he ran. He was moving up from the lower floors and to the upper ones. There had to be an exit there.

Murtagh cut around a corner sharply just as he felt someone grab hold onto his jacket. He shed it without even pausing in his steps. The walls were a blur around him, but still he remained coordinated. He may never have been inside the castle before, but he knew the basic layouts of it. Morzan had passed on that knowledge before he had died.

He cursed when he could still hear Formora’s steps behind him. They were subtle, so subtle that even elves would have had to strain their ears to hear them. Either he was going to kill Formora someday or she would kill him.

He leaped down a staircase when he felt his courage wane. He had taken the wrong way, obviously. And when he heard Formora jump after him, he heard a second pair of footsteps. Damnit, Kialandi was after him as well!

Murtagh closed his eyes and willed his instincts to guide him. He knew the fight was over. The women were going to catch him sooner or later. He was at a disadvantage in the castle. So he did the only thing he could. Murtagh focused and opened his mind briefly, just long enough to send a brief and urgent message to Thorn. And not a second too late. A flash later and Formora had grabbed onto his shoulder, pulling him backwards and sending him into a nearby wall. The wall shook upon impact. Murtagh felt the air leave his lungs and fell to the ground in a boneless heap.

Everything went black.

**::OBSESSION::**

Thorn had been gone for two weeks, and Eragon could see that the separation was starting to wear on Saphira. Thorn had left with the instructions that they would just stay where they were and that he would call whenever it was safe. They hadn’t heard from him in a week and a half.

Eragon worried about Thorn too. He knew that Thorn felt compelled to go after Murtagh and make sure he was safe, no matter how strange their bond was, but something just felt off. For the hydra not to have contacted them in so long, something was definitely wrong.

Saphira sat by herself, like she did these days, staring out of a nearby window. They hadn’t removed the curtain from the terrace doors, but the windows could be covered and uncovered whenever. Eragon, who by now was feeling quite bloated and slightly uncomfortable, had started to just sit around in the living room with her. They rarely did anything, but he could feel that she appreciated his company.

“Hey guys.”

Eragon looked up from his book and greeted Aksel with a soft smile. The chimera was finally back on his feet, but he was still a little more quiet than usual. The brunet knew their talk had helped, but he also knew that it would take time for Aksel to get fully back on his feet, mentally speaking.

“How’re ya this morning, ‘Agon?” Aksel asked softly.

“Nervous,” Eragon admitted quietly.

Saphira looked away from the window and bit her lip.

“In two months from today I’m going to be a parent,” Eragon said meekly. “A _parent_. I’m not ready for this!”

“It’s going to be alright,” Aksel grinned. “You have us, you have the old man...you’re going to be fine.”

Eragon winced and closed the book. He glared down at the cover and shoved it away.

“There’s just so much I haven’t done yet!” Eragon protested. “And reading those stupid books just makes me more nervous!”

“What are you nervous about?” Saphira asked softly.

Aksel sent her a surprised look. She barely mustered to give him an annoyed glare in return. Eragon bit his lip and looked down.

“What I’m going to do after the surgery. I mean, I know the nursery’s done and all that jazz...I still can’t believe that Brom’s letting me stay, though...and I know I have everything I need, but,” he sighed. “I just feel so unprepared! Hell, I don’t even know the sex of my baby!!”

“You said you wanted to wait,” Saphira pointed out dryly.

“Still!” Eragon exclaimed. “I’m nowhere near ready for this!”

“Honey, no one is,” the blue eyed female said softly and grabbed his hand. “But it won’t matter. Because when it’s all over and done with, you’re going to have a baby, and it’s going to be your baby. Yours.”

“...Until Murtagh learns about it and decides to come and kill us,” Eragon said dryly and shuddered.

“Hey now, he’s not even going to get the chance,” Saphira said sternly. “He can try all he wants, but we’re not going to let him.”

“That’s right,” Aksel said and raised a slightly shaky thumb.

“Thanks guys, but...”

“I know,” Saphira smiled softly. “You wouldn’t be you if you didn’t worry. But think of it like this; you have two whole months left. Not _just_ two, but two whole months! That’s plenty of time.”

Eragon shrugged softly.

“I guess,” he muttered.

“You just let those sorrows go and focus on the brighter future,” the hydra squeezed his hand. “I know it may not seem really bright now, but it’s going to be. You just hold onto that, okay? And if I see you slipping back into misery...”

Eragon nodded sharply. He didn’t want to hear her finish that threat.

Saphira laughed and sent him a soft wink.

“You look a little better, Saph,” Aksel commented and twiddled his thumbs.

“Well, let’s just say that I got a feeling things might be looking up soon.”

**::OBSESSION::**

Murtagh had been genuinely surprised when he had been taken to a different room. He supposed this was Durza’s way of trying to sweeten him up.

The room had a bed, a desk, a small bathroom and a few books that Murtagh had read when the boredom had become too much. That had been almost two weeks ago. The books had been read, the drawing material on the desk had been used well, and he had even started to map out a calendar on one of the walls.

So far he had been there for just one day short of two weeks. He met with Durza once every day and he declined his offer every day. Kialandi was the only person who visited him, though Murtagh knew there were more people in the coven. He also knew that Durza, Kialandi and Formora were the three main people in the coven and therefore didn’t venture out of the castle very often. They weren’t permitted to since they were guarding the secrets of the council.

It hadn’t always been like that, of course. When Morzan had been the head of the coven he had been more out of the castle than he had been in it. Even though Murtagh had lived with him for nine years, Morzan had never taken him there. Murtagh figured that this new tactic that Durza used was to make sure the main people stayed safe from vampires or people like himself; people with the motivation and skill to go after and kill head vampires.

If just one of those three were captured and tortured enough to make them spill the secrets, then anyone could come after the council. Murtagh wasn’t sure just where the council was, but he knew that Durza’s coven guarded their secrets. He guessed they could be anywhere on the islands, as Murtagh knew that he was currently on one of those islands. He briefly wondered where, but shook it aside. He had no fight with them, only with Durza and his precious little coven.

Murtagh lay down on the floor and glared up at the make-shift calendar. According to it he hadn’t fed in two weeks and three days. He had decided to check when he noticed that his eyes were permanently red-black. If he had been that bad the last time he had gone this long without feeding, he was surprised Thorn hadn’t contacted Vanir sooner.

Murtagh stretched his arms over his head and looked lethargy at his pale skin. It was beginning to look almost translucent. His veins were standing out clearly against his skin. He lowered his arms and laid them under his head. He sighed and closed his eyes.

Murtagh was very glad that Durza didn’t keep any playthings in the castle. If Durza had been keeping just one human in the opposite end of the castle, Murtagh would have heard the heart beat and gone wild with thirst. The older vampire had tried to seduce him with bottled blood, but Murtagh had surprised even himself by not giving in. It had smelled strangely stale and unappetising. He had just looked away from the blood and calmly asked Durza to let him go.

The hazel eyed man yawned and started to hum under his breath. He expected a visit from Kialandi very soon. Though she only came to take him to Durza, it was nonetheless a visit. An unwanted visit at that. He hated it when she tried to throw herself at him.

He tried to take calm and deep breaths and not to think about the thirst that was boiling inside of him. It wasn’t as bad as when he had been a teenager, but it was bad enough. Every part of him screamed for blood. He was almost tempted to guess whether or not he would go mad enough to drink animal blood.

Murtagh let out a bitter laugh. Yeah, he would be pretty desperate to go that far. There was a bigger chance of him getting mated than for that to happen!

The minutes slowly passed. Murtagh shifted, but didn’t move from his position on the floor.

“One hundred goblets of blood on the wall, one hundred goblets of blood. Take one down, pass it around, ninety-nine goblets of blood on the wall,” he sung quietly. “Ninety-nine goblets of blood on the wall, ninety-nine goblets of blood. Take one down -”

He cut himself off. So much for not thinking about blood. He snorted and tried to find something else to do. It was then the door opened.

“Lying there again, Murtagh?” Kialandi sighed. “Are you trying to make yourself sicker?”

“You know I can’t feel the cold,” Murtagh said sharply.

“Soon you will,” Kialandi said mystically.

“Che,” Murtagh muttered and opened his eyes. “I don’t care. When are you freaks going to realise that I’m not going to join you, ever?”

Kialandi flipped her hair over her shoulder.

“You’ll cave this time, Murtagh; just you wait and see,” she smirked.

He just rolled his eyes and stood up.

“No, I won’t. I don’t care who’s blood you present to me; I won’t cave,” he said darkly and walked up to her.

Kialandi laughed loudly. Murtagh cringed away from her.

“We’ll see Murtagh, we’ll see.”

**::OBSESSION::**

They had been tracking two vampires for several days, and so far they seemed to be nowhere near the end of their killing spree. And it was driving Thorn nuts.

“If they don’t get sick of this soon, I’m going to -”

“Shush!” Vanir hissed sharply. “I think they’re leaving.”

Thorn perked up. The two vampires had been staying in Aroughs, a city that was very close to the Sudran border, for two days already and it was only thanks to Vanir’s geography lesson that Thorn had agreed to stay behind. The hydra knew they were deep in vampire territory now. The only question was where the coven’s hideout was.

Vanir had of course reminded him that there were several covens, but along the coast there was only one that dominated. Wyrdfell; the forsworn. Murtagh’s father had been a part of that coven once and Thorn knew they had been looking for Murtagh for a very long time. And after the short message he had received from Murtagh almost two weeks ago, it was clear that it was them who had taken him.

“They’re moving in the direction of the coast,” Vanir murmured. “We have to leave now or we’ll lose their trail.”

Thorn nodded sharply and waited as Vanir drowned a small vial of potion in one go. The magician had been relying heavily on them ever since they had found the two vampires. It somehow made Vanir fast enough to keep up with Thorn, but Thorn could see that it had its disadvantages. Vanir had been sleeping a lot to stock up on strength. The hydra vowed to get the magician something that showed his appreciation once the whole mess was over and done with.

Thorn shook himself out of his thoughts and met Vanir’s impatient glare. He nodded and together they set off after the vampires.

Hours later they reached the southern coast of Alagaësia. They stopped when they saw the vampires. Thorn activated his sight and tried to see what was going on.

They were talking with a local magician. The man was in bad shape, but instantly seemed better when the tall vampire gave him a small pouch. Thorn narrowed his eyes when the magician pointed to the docks and nodded at whatever the vampires were saying.

“They’re getting help from the locals,” Thorn muttered in distaste. “They probably say that they won’t kill anyone in the town as long as the people do what they ask.

Vanir tsk’ed in disapproval.

“I don’t care what’s in that bag; he’s giving my kind a bad reputation.”

Thorn ignored Vanir’s offended mutterings. He watched the two vampires walk towards the docks and get into a boat.

“Come on, they’re leaving for one of the islands.”

Vanir swore. Thorn couldn’t help but to agree. That didn’t bode well.

They managed to sneak up to the docks without drawing anyone’s attention. They watched the boat head out onto the sea and steer towards the small cluster of islands just outside of Alagaësia. And as their luck would have it, the weather wasn’t cooperating. It had been raining on and off all day, and a thick mist was hovering over the docks and shielded the sea from view.

Thorn snorted. He narrowed his eyes and looked through the mist easily with his eyes. He looked around and was relieved when he found the boat.

“Can you see it?” Vanir asked softly.

“Yes,” Thorn said gruffly. “And I can see where it’s heading.”

Vanir smirked beside him. Thorn deactivated his sight and simply stared out into the mist for a second. _Hold on, you bastard, we’re coming._

**::OBSESSION::**

“And what’s the status?”

Saphira couldn’t believe it. Thorn had done it; he had found him!

Thorn had called her that following week, just like she had predicted. But she had never predicted he would come with such good news. Though they hadn’t positively found Murtagh yet, they were close.

 _“They moved from city to city along the Surdan border, but today they finally moved back to the coven,”_ Thorn told her calmly.

“Do you know where it is?” she asked and bit her lip.

_“I can’t tell for sure. They slipped their boat around Beirland, so the coven could be there, on Illium or Uden. I would have seen if they had driven over to Parlium.”_

“Could they be in Eoam?” Saphira asked slightly breathlessly.

 _“It is the vampire capital, but I don’t think so,”_ Thorn sighed. _“Most likely the castle is on Illium or Uden.”_

“Wait, castle?” Saphira blinked.

 _“Well, yes. Where else did you think the coven resided? We’re talking about the coven that guards the council. There are smaller covens around in Alagaësia, but this is the one that you need an invite and a possible future place in the council to join,”_ Thorn snorted. _“Murtagh’s practically of royal blood; there’s no one else that would dare to do this.”_

“I see your point,” she frowned.

 _“And by now it’s been over two weeks since he’s fed. I’m rather anxious to get some blood in him, fast,”_ the other hydra said hoarsely.

“Won’t he attack you then, or Vanir, if he’s that hungry?” Saphira whispered.

 _“Hydra’s are like animals to vampires; they never seek us out to feed on us. Vanir though, he’s staying behind in the boat. And I can’t tell whether or not he’s happy about that,”_ Thorn drawled.

Saphira smiled softly.

_“I’m going to get him back, Saph. Then I’m going to prop him full of Eragon’s blood, ship him off to Vroengard and then I’m going to have blood sent over there and make sure he bloody drinks it.”_

Saphira let out a choked giggle.

 _“Yeah, and then I’m going to make sure he stays there until he starts to listen to me and becomes a nice mated vampire,”_ he drawled.

“You have quite a bit ahead of you,” she said softly. “You won’t be coming back, will you?”

Thorn fell silent. She closed her eyes and gripped the phone tighter.

 _“Vanir will be drawing Eragon’s blood from now on. He can send it as well. I...I don’t like it either, Saphira, but I need to stay by my rider’s side,”_ he said huskily.

“I know,” she murmured sadly.

_“I will miss you.”_

“And I you.”

 _“How’s the kid doing, anyway?”_ Thorn asked and cleared his throat.

“Which?” Saphira asked sadly. “Your rider has left his mark on two of my precious people now.”

 _“It doesn’t make me like Murtagh better, believe me,”_ Thorn snorted. _“I was talking about Eragon, but how is that chimera? He looked pretty...well, you know, the last time I saw him.”_

“Aksel has recovered just fine, like your friend said,” Saphira said softly. “Thank him for us.”

 _“I will. And Eragon?”_ he asked.

“He’s worried about what’s ahead of him. He’s nervous. We’re trying to help him the best we can, but...”

 _“It’s not the same,”_ the redhead sighed. _“Well, my best wishes to them both.”_

“I’ll pass the word on,” she bit her lip. “Bye.”

_“Yeah, bye. See you.”_

Saphira sighed and gripped the phone even tighter when the dialling tone came. She closed her eyes and prayed for Thorn to succeed.

**::OBSESSION::**

“Sixty-five goblets of blood on the wall, sixty-five goblets of blood. Take one down, pass it around. Sixty-four goblets of blood on the wall.”

Murtagh was, for once, lying on the bed as he waited for Kialandi to arrive. He hated to admit it, but she had been right. He could actually feel the cold now and it chilled him to realise it. Just what was wrong with him to make him feel like that?

He hadn’t fed in three weeks and the coven had held him prisoner for two weeks and three days. And he was going nuts. He could smell every rodent in the castle; hear their tiny hearts beat rapidly in their chests. But even so the blood that Durza presented him smelled stale and almost made him gag. Murtagh had actually asked how fresh the blood had been, just to see what sort of reaction it would get him. Durza had asked why and Murtagh had told him it smelled awful. He hadn’t seen the vampire since. That had been two days ago.

He ran his tongue over his teeth and noted for the third time that yes, his fangs were a little sharper than usual. He wouldn’t be surprised if he started to hear voices. He knew he was going insane. It was only a matter of time before he snapped.

There was something that puzzled him though. The last time he had gotten ill and passed out, he hadn’t fed in two weeks. He was now a week past that and he was still very much conscious. There was no way it had anything to do with vampires being around him, Murtagh knew that much, but there was nothing else that differed from the two scenarios. According to Vanir, he should have been lying in a coma already, awaiting his wake-up call in T minus hundred years.

If Murtagh ever saw Thorn again, he was going to bug the hydra until he gave him the answers he deserved.

“Right on time, Kialandi,” Murtagh drawled as he heard the door open.

“Hmmm,” she smacked her lips. “You’ve become much more sensitive since the last time I saw you.”

“Just because I don’t speak up doesn’t mean I can’t hear you approach,” he snorted.

Murtagh could practically hear her raise her eyebrow.

“So, does the boss wish to see me this time or did you just have to visit me...again,” he sneered.

“Durza is eager to see you again,” Kialandi said musically.

“Fuck him. I’m comfortable right here.”

Kialandi was instantly there beside him, running a hand up his clothed arm and over his shoulder. Murtagh’s eyes snapped open. She was smirking down at him.

“Get your hands off of me,” he growled.

“Everyone could use some loving, you included,” she said and licked her lips.

He flinched away from her. He moved to get up, but she was faster. Kialandi had him pinned to the bed before he could move another muscle.

“Awww, are you shy?” she smirked.

“I prefer my company to be male,” Murtagh spat.

“Oh,” she laughed. “After me you won’t anymore.”

Murtagh opened his mouth to snarl at her, but Kialandi had barely touched him before she jumped away. She stared at him in shock.

“Your skin...it’s ice cold.”

“I am a vampire, bitch.”

Kialandi narrowed her eyes, though she did not look offended in any way.

“I’ve never seen this happen before,” she muttered.

“So what?” Murtagh snapped and got up, determined not to get pinned again. “Get the fuck out of my sight. I don’t want to see your precious boss or your fucking face right now.”

She glared at him. Her hair spilled over her shoulders and curled past her neck. She flipped it out of the way.

“Is your heart still beating?” Kialandi demanded to know.

“Otherwise I’d be dead,” he snapped.

She rolled her eyes.

“You were supposed to go mad with hunger, not...grow cold,” she muttered. “What aren’t you telling us?”

Plenty of things and none that she needed to know. Murtagh settled for glaring at her.

“Durza should know,” Kialandi smirked confidently and started to back out of the room.

For some reason it was vital that she didn’t go and see Durza. Murtagh shot forward at a speed he didn’t think he still had and before he knew it, he had his fist through her chest.

Kialandi gurgled. She grabbed onto his arm and tried to pull it back. Murtagh clenched his fingers around her heart. She screamed. Murtagh pulled his hand out and watched her fall to the floor before him. His shirt and arm was coated in cold blood. The blood of a vampire was never warm since they were technically no longer alive. The only time they were warm was right after feeding.

Murtagh threw her heart down at her feet. He stared at the dark blood on his hand and scowled. He hadn’t planned on killing her. Kialandi was alright compared to her two companions. Murtagh groaned. Durza and Formora were going to kill him now. One murder was excusable, two was not. One meant that he might have been testing his strength. Two showed that he was too dangerous.

He scowled down at her and went to check her pockets. He sighed in relief when he found her lighter. Kialandi had liked to smoke, claiming that it made her look lady-like. Then again, she had been around since the sixties, even though her vampire features made her look like she was in her late twenties.

The hazel eyed man threw some of his drawings and books on her and lit the lighter. He watched the flames dance around for a moment. Finally he sighed and threw the lighter on the body. The papers started to burn first, but gradually the flames moved over to her corpse. Murtagh looked away when he noticed that she was finally catching fire. A second later he was walking out of the door.

Murtagh walked down the hall and tired to get a feeling of how he could get out. He wasn’t surprised when he found that he had to get past Durza and Formora. He had done a mistake the last time, thinking that Durza had taken over his father’s favourite room. Now he knew better. All his summons to Durza had taught him one thing after all; a better layout of the castle.

He stopped when he heard steps approaching. He had been walking for a few minutes in the direction he knew led out of the castle. Around the corner he knew that someone was coming, and they were coming for him.

Formora rounded the corner and glared at him. Murtagh crouched, sliding his bloodied arm behind his back, and waited.

“Where’s Kialandi?” Formora asked coldly.

“Busy,” Murtagh smirked.

Formora narrowed her eyes. Murtagh knew she could smell the blood and that she was wondering whose it was.

“What have you done to her?” she snarled.

Murtagh couldn’t help but to widen his smirk. He hadn’t bothered to check his shirt before leaving, but he was sure there were a few blood drops on it. Oh well, he doubted he could have hidden her murder for much longer.

“Nothing that hasn’t already happened to her once,” Murtagh answered calmly and started to slowly walk forward.

It felt so good to not have someone beside him directing him where to go. For a second he wondered whether he could get away with two more murders. He doubted it. But the way things were looking, he would either have to kill Durza and Formora or get killed himself.

Formora snarled and shot at him. Murtagh barely had time to duck before she clawed at him. He swore quietly and ran for the door, Formora hot at his heels.

Murtagh knew that it would be over before it began. He was weak and Formora was fully rested. She would catch him in no time and most likely rip him to pieces. But that didn’t mean he was going to lie down and wait for her to grab onto him with her claw-like nails.

Murtagh felt her grab onto his arm and pull him back, smacking him right into a nearby wall. This seemed to be a favoured tactic of hers, he noted. Well, no more. Murtagh clung onto the wall, not letting himself sag to the ground like he had done the last time, and glared at her. Formora glared right back. Murtagh saw her look at his right arm, the one he had shoved through Kialandi’s chest, and down at her palm. It was black with blood.

“You killed her,” Formora said darkly. “Now I’m going to kill you.”

Murtagh slid down the wall at the exact time she flew at him. Then he crouched down and ran forward again. He didn’t get far before he felt her claws dig into his arm and prepare to throw him back again. But not this time. Murtagh turned around, grabbed onto her wrist and flung her into the wall. He didn’t stick around to see if she caught herself or not.

When Murtagh heard a second pair of steps, he was sure Durza was coming to join the fight. He only managed to get a flash of crimson eyes and red hair before they nearly collided. That was not Durza.

Thorn didn’t manage to say a word before Murtagh grabbed onto him and dragged him along. They weren’t far from the door, as Murtagh could see it for the first time, but they weren’t close enough. He scowled and, in a move he had done once before, pushed Thorn forcefully out of the heavy stone doors.

Formora was on him not a second later. She clawed up his left shoulder before he managed to throw her off of him. But this time she wouldn’t let go.

Formora managed to claw at his chest and his face before Murtagh managed to kick her away. She caught herself and was at him once again. Murtagh wasn’t about to let her hit him again. He grabbed onto her and wrestled her to the ground. Then he grabbed onto her neck and twisted it. It broke.

Murtagh leaped up and glared at her. He could feel Durza approaching and knew he had to leave. But he couldn’t help it, not when he knew that Formora wasn’t dead. Her flaming black eyes were glaring up at him, but she was unable to speak. Murtagh knew that he had to rip out her heart and burn her before she would actually die, but he didn’t have the time. The broken neck would mend itself in a few days, unfortunate as that was for him.

Murtagh graced her with one last glare before bolting out of the doors. He found Thorn down by a small dock, getting into a decent sized motor boat where Vanir was already sitting. Murtagh scowled, but ran towards them nonetheless. He would just have to hold himself in check.

“Go, go, go!” Thorn barked as Murtagh entered the dock.

Vanir started the engine. Murtagh leaped onto the boat just as it pulled away from the dock. Behind him he could hear someone coming. Thorn took over the engine as Vanir sent a burst of magic at whoever it was, causing them to fall back.

As soon as they were far enough away from the island, Murtagh turned to Vanir sharply.

“Put me to sleep now. I don’t care how, just do it before I kill you.”

Vanir didn’t waste a second. Before Murtagh quite knew what had happened, he was unconscious.

**::OBSESSION::**

When Eragon had woken up the following morning he instantly knew that Saphira had heard from Thorn. She was glowing and smiled when she saw him.

“Good news?”

“Mhm,” she smiled. “Thorn thinks that he has found Murtagh.”

“Oh,” Eragon breathed. “Well, that’s good.”

“Eragon, it is good,” she said softly and pulled him down to sit beside her. “Murtagh’s been gone for nearly three weeks, and Thorn suspects that he hasn’t eaten in that long. That’s dangerous for such a regular eater like Murtagh. But now that Thorn’s found him, he can restore some of Murtagh’s cool.”

The brunet just shrugged.

Saphira opened her mouth to speak, but cut herself off when the phone in her hand started to buzz. She instantly brought it to her ear.

“How did it go?”

Eragon watched in silence.

“How is he?” she asked.

Ah, so they had managed to rescue Murtagh. Eragon bit his lip. He wasn’t sure if that was a good thing or a bad thing.

“And what’s the plan now?” she asked quietly.

Eragon watched as her expression shifted from sombre to sad.

“Yes, that seems to be the best course of action right now,” Saphira sighed and looked down. “How long will you be staying there?”

What? Staying where? What was going on? Eragon frowned. Saphira looked up and motion for him to wait.

“Yes, that’s probably the best,” she nodded. “Won’t he become suspicious, though?”

Eragon blinked when Saphira laughed.

“You’ve thought well ahead on this. That’s good,” she said with a smirk, laughing when she got the response.

“Then I’ll be hearing from you?”

Eragon blinked again. Was Thorn taking Murtagh somewhere and not coming back?

“Alright. Bye,” she murmured and hung up.

Eragon watched as she ran a hand over her face and sighed.

“What’s going on?”

Saphira licked her lips and sent him a soft but sad smile.

“They managed to get Murtagh out, though there are new problems ahead. It seems like Murtagh killed one of the vampires just before Thorn got to him.”

He felt his eyes widen. That was two vampires so far. Just how strong was Murtagh?!

“Thorn felt that it would be best to take Murtagh away. He advised me from telling you, in case something where to happen,” she looked away.

“Something? Like what?” he asked with a frown.

“If he got away again,” Saphira said hoarsely. “Thorn isn’t sure what the coven did to him while they had him, so he wants to keep Murtagh permanently away from you until its safe.”

“Something that might never happen,” Eragon said softly.

Saphira sniffled.

“Right,” she laughed humourlessly. “He’s going to try, but...”

Eragon reached out and gently hugged her. Saphira clung to his side; as always careful with his stomach when she hugged him.

“Murtagh’s stubborn,” Eragon finished for her. “I have a feeling that Thorn’s stubborn too.”

Saphira let out a watery hiccough.

“He’ll be staying with Murtagh from now on; Vanir will be our contact to him,” she brushed away the soft tears that had escaped. “I don’t know when I’ll see him again.”

He opened his mouth, but knew there was nothing he could say to make it better.

“Thorn won’t leave until Murtagh has changed. That can be everything from two months to two years. Thorn doesn’t trust him to be alone, not even with Vanir,” she sighed unevenly.

“He’ll be back before you know it.”

Saphira looked at him, but didn’t comment. It was alright; Eragon knew that it was a lie as much as she did.

**::OBSESSION::**

Everything was disoriented when Murtagh woke up. The sunlight hurt his eyes; a rare occurrence, and his body felt oddly heavy.

“Finally awake?”

Thorn? What was Thorn doing there? The last thing he remembered was being fetched by Kialandi and...

Murtagh sat up too quickly. Dizziness overcame him and he nearly tilted off the bed. Thorn was instantly there, catching him and laying him back down.

“Take it easy. Vanir got a little too eager and used the strongest sleeping spell he knew,” Thorn said gruffly.

Murtagh groaned.

“Am I dreaming, or did what I think happen, happen?”

“If you’re referring to you killing one of the vampires and catching a ride with me and Vanir off the island, then yes, that happened,” Thorn said dryly. “I think we caught you just in time too. Do you realise that you’re cold as stone?”

“No, really?” Murtagh spat. “Fuck, just give me something to eat!”

“Someone’s cranky in the morning.”

Murtagh groaned again. Anyone but him!

“Here you go,” Vanir snorted and shoved a black athletic bottle into his hands.

Murtagh opened the lid and sniffed. Suddenly his mouth was watering and his stomach was churning. _That_ was the real deal. That was the way blood was supposed to smell like. He moaned in ecstasy and gulped the whole bottle down in one go.

He felt more than he saw Vanir and Thorn’s unease. He licked the rim of the bottle and threw it away.

“Someone was hungry,” Vanir drawled in disgust.

“I hadn’t eaten in three weeks, shithead,” Murtagh sneered. “Whatever they tried to give me smelled like shit, so there was no way I was drinking that. I think they might have dosed it, for whatever reason I don’t know.”

Vanir looked a little amused, something that did not bode well with Murtagh. What was the magician gloating about this time?

“Sure you don’t want more?”

Murtagh rolled his eyes and looked away. When Vanir looked like that, no thanks.

“How did you find me?” Murtagh asked gruffly.

“We followed a couple of lower vampires to the islands, trying to get a grip on where they might have hidden you,” Thorn answered softly.

“And?” Murtagh raised his eyebrow.

“Illium,” Thorn hovered over him.

Murtagh glared up at him. Frigging too-tall hydra.

“And where am I now?”

Thorn smirked softly.

“Somewhere the coven can never find you,” he said smugly.

“Oh fuck, where the hell have you taken me?” Murtagh moaned.

“Not telling you. I don’t want you running out on me again,” Thorn growled angrily.

Murtagh had forgotten about that. By the look on Thorn’s face, he had not. Murtagh almost hoped that Thorn hadn’t gotten his last note.

Vanir stood up silently and slipped out of the room. Murtagh had time to take in the small room; the dresser against the right wall beside the door, the window on the left and a second bed straight ahead up against the wall before Thorn attacked.

“What the fuck did you think you were doing?!” Thorn growled angrily. “Even out the odds?!? I’ll fucking give you even out!”

Murtagh blinked when Thorn leaned down until their noses were practically touching.

“You are never leaving my sight. You can go to the bathroom because there are no windows in there, smartass. Otherwise I’m sleeping right in here with you, and there’s no fucking way you’re walking anywhere without me,” Thorn smirked nastily. “Are we clear?”

“Yes, sir,” Murtagh drawled. “Now get out of my face.”

Thorn shook his head, his mouth thinning into an angry line.

“Why did you go and tell me that, huh? Why? I thought that was privileged knowledge,” Thorn asked darkly.

Murtagh pushed himself up into a seated position. He was feeling better already, though Thorn’s glare wasn’t really helping.

“Because we both know that one day you’re going to have to do it. I just gave you the know-how,” he shrugged.

“The know-how? I didn’t want the fucking know-how!” the hydra spat. “The day when I need to kill you is never going to come!”

Murtagh flinched when Thorn’s voice morphed into a shout. He rubbed his ear and sent the redhead a tired glare.

“You love her, don’t you? You love that little hydra girl, Saphira. There will come a day when I might give into my thirst and attack her rider. What are you going to do then?”

Thorn remained silent.

“Who would you be willing to kill out of the two of us; Saphira or me? And let’s be honest here, Thorn, you hate me,” he smirked. “But you love Saphira. The choice isn’t that hard.”

“You are my rider whether I like it or not,” the redhead spat, his red eyes practically glowing with anger. “It’s my duty to attack whoever attacks you, to protect you at all costs.”

“Che, duty my ass,” Murtagh snorted. “If it came to it, you would attack me just so Saphira wouldn’t get hurt.”

Thorn sneered down at him, his arms crossed stiffly over his chest.

“It’s in my blood to protect you. Saphira knows that. She would protect Eragon at the same costs as I would protect you, even if our relationships with you two are polar opposites.”

Murtagh snorted amusedly. He honestly didn’t believe that.

“I would not like it Murtagh, but if it came to it, I would attack Saphira to block an attack meant for you,” Thorn said coldly. “I don’t care if you don’t believe me; that is the truth.”

Murtagh fell silent. Thorn’s eyes were boring into his, and as much as he hated to admit it, they were filled with sincerity. Hate, but sincerity nonetheless. Thorn was speaking the truth.

“I feel sorry for you,” Murtagh drawled.

He had never been able to say things without mockery behind it, but he could see that Thorn picked up the sincerity in his words. The hydra rolled his eyes and uncrossed his arms. His shoulders looked a little less tense and his heartbeat had quietened slightly.

“But it doesn’t matter. I’m not letting you leave until I’ve taught you some humanity,” Thorn said and nodded confidently. “I don’t even care how long it takes. It’s overdue.”

Murtagh let out a string of amused laughter.

“You do realise we’re going to be stuck here for quite a while, right?” he sniggered.

The look in Thorn’s eyes made him stop. There was raw sadness in them and for once, Murtagh could actually feel sorry for him.

“I know,” Thorn said roughly. “Go back to sleep; you need some rest after whatever the hell you’ve been through.”

“I thought you weren’t going to leave me?” Murtagh drawled when he saw Thorn move for the door.

“I’m not. I’m going to be standing just outside this door, and it won’t even be closed,” Thorn looked at him before walking out. “Sleep, Murtagh.”

**::OBSESSION::**

Two more weeks passed. Eragon wasn’t too thrilled that he had entered his seventh month of the pregnancy. That meant that he only had one month and two weeks left before he officially became a parent.

Ever since Thorn’s phone call two weeks ago, Saphira had gone back to her sombre self. This time though, she had bounced back to her normal self much more quickly. She had told Eragon herself that there was no use moping around. She was going to see Thorn someday; there was no point to feel bad until she did. She had so much to look forward to before then, apparently.

“Say ‘Agon, what are you going to name the kid?” Aksel asked as he nibbled his toast.

Eragon, who had forgone eating before noon all-together, it made him nauseous more often than not, blinked.

“I haven’t given it any thought, actually. I don’t even know the sex of the baby.”

Aksel choked.

“Wha?! But you’ve been to like...” he frowned. “Five check-ups!”

Eragon had been surprised when Saphira had dragged him to visit the nearest magical clinic. Because of the child growing within him, Saphira had felt that it would be best to take him there. This had been shortly after the meeting with Murtagh, though Eragon wasn’t sure when Saphira had had the time to make the appointment.

Saphira had found him a very reliable doctor that Eragon actually had not problems going to. Dr. Carn was a very kind man, though he looked like he could fall over at any time. There were constant shadows under his kind eyes, though he smiled brightly whenever Eragon came by. He hadn’t asked any unpleasant questions about the other father, just made sure he was comfortable and that the child was healthy.

In fact, he was due for another check-up soon. Eragon wasn’t really looking forward to that one, but only because the check-up after that one would be the last before the baby was due.

“I don’t want to know,” Eragon shrugged, shaking himself back to reality.

“Oh,” Aksel blinked. “That’s cool.”

Saphira shook her head.

“You always did have the subtlety of a rhinoceros,” she laughed.

Aksel just shrugged and continued to eat his breakfast.

“Aksel is right, though,” Saphira said softly. “You should start to think about names. You should have started to think about it already.”

Eragon laid a hand on his steadily growing stomach. For the past month, it had started to grow rapidly. Even through Brom’s t-shirts, there was no mistaking the bump on Eragon’s stomach.

He sighed.

“I guess I don’t really want to grasp the fact that it’s going to be over soon.”

Aksel stopped chewing.

“Don’t get me wrong; I’m not going to miss being pregnant...” Eragon bit his lip. “It’s just...I still don’t think I’m ready for what’s to come. What if the baby looks like him, huh? I’ll forever be reminded of my mistake.”

“Mistake?” Saphira frowned.

“Yeah. Trusting Murtagh was the biggest mistake I ever made,” Eragon said softly. “I should never have -”

“You’re not going to blame the child, are you?” the hydra asked sharply.

“No,” Eragon blinked. “I, no. But I’m still going to remember how he or she came to be. I’m never going to forget that they’re half vampire. God, what if something’s wrong with them?! What if -”

“Shhh, Eragon,” Saphira said softly and laid a finger over his mouth to stop his rambling. “The baby’s fine, you know that. Dr. Carn made sure everything was fine.”

“Yes, but!”

“But nothing,” Saphira smiled.

Eragon fell silent. Aksel slowly began to chew again, though he kept sending him worried glances. Eragon smiled softly and looked down at his hands.

“Did you ever wonder why I fainted that day Vanir told me I was Murtagh’s mate?” he asked softly.

“Well, yeah!” Aksel piped up. “I wasn’t even there for the show.”

Saphira sent the blond a glare, Eragon didn’t have to look up to know that. He waved her off.

“Its fine, Saph,” he sighed and looked up. “It was because it was all so much to take in. I had barely had time to get used to the fact that I was pregnant, and then that is thrown in my face?”

The two others remained silent.

“I thought for sure that I was going to die, that someone had given me the death sentence,” he gulped. “I mean, Murtagh’s a vampire. Brom said that they literally hate the thought of being tied down by just one person, and Murtagh was the nastiest vampire he had seen since Morzan himself! And now...now I’m carrying a part of that inside of me.”

Saphira opened her mouth to speak, but Eragon shook his head softly.

“I can’t help but to worry, you know? Violence and aggression can be genetic, and I just...I’m scared,” he closed his eyes tightly. “I’m scared of what I’m carrying inside of me, because I know its half Murtagh.”

“Oh, Eragon,” Saphira breathed. “You have nothing to worry about! We’ll be here beside you, making sure that you’re raising a perfectly normal and non-violent little bundle.”

“It doesn’t stop me from worrying, though,” Eragon whispered.

Saphira just grabbed onto his hand and squeezed it. Eragon opened his eyes when his other hand was grabbed as well. Aksel sent him an encouraging grin that for once one seemed genuine. And Eragon couldn’t help but to smile back.


	10. To Belong

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This is when I really bring on the angst, so beware of that. ;)
> 
>  ** _Word_** – word written in my language _Andelan_
> 
>  _-Speech.-_ Eragon/Saphira talking to each other mentally.

_::December to January::_

Murtagh flicked a speck of dirt from his jeans and sighed. Six weeks; it had been one month and two weeks since Thorn had ‘rescued’ him and put him on whatever godforsaken island he was currently on.

So far it hadn’t been too bad, though it was immensely boring. The only visits they got were from Vanir; he had stopped by three times so far. Vanir had brought with him what seemed like a huge library, so Murtagh hadn’t run out of anything to read yet. The house Thorn had taken him too was well equipped. There was a TV, several DVDs, even drawing tools; he was free to do as he pleased. Well, everything besides leaving the house or the island. For Thorn had, true to his word, never left Murtagh alone long enough for him to try to escape. Murtagh had grown tired of trying to find time to run after the third week.

He had a vague idea of where he was. It was December, and it had started to snow. He reckoned they were up north, and that only left him with two islands. But for some reason, he really doubted that Thorn had taken him to Sharktooth. That left Vroengard. And considering the nice quality of the house, Murtagh was certain that they were on Vroengard. There were small villages across the island that were mostly inhabited by fishermen and hunters. The capital Doru Areba lay in a crater at the center of the island. Murtagh knew there were a few very old families and several fey creatures who lived there.

Murtagh hadn’t shared this knowledge with Thorn. He was sure the hydra would freak, demand to know how he had found out and lock him up even tighter. No, Murtagh treasured the little freedom he had, so he kept quiet.

Also, he tried to keep talking to Thorn at a minimum. Thorn had been acting very strange lately. By now Murtagh was sure that he was pining for Saphira with all the talk Thorn was sprouting about mates, settling down, having a family and what-not. Murtagh usually tuned him out or told him to go to hell.

Murtagh was lying on the couch with a pair of headphones tucked over his ears, the music on as loudly as possible when Thorn walked through the door.

Thorn actually left the house these days, seeing as Murtagh wasn’t trying to run away anymore, though he never stayed out for more than an hour at a time. He didn’t trust Murtagh completely just yet, not that Murtagh blamed him.

Murtagh opened his eyes and glared up at the hydra when Thorn ripped the headphones off.

“What do you want?” he asked darkly.

“We need -”

“To talk?” Murtagh finished and groaned. “Again? The fuck do you want to talk about now?”

Thorn glared at him. He sat down on the table, directly in front of Murtagh, and tossed the headphones uncaringly aside.

“I think you know,” Thorn said coldly.

Murtagh stood up and for once found himself glaring down at Thorn.

“If you want to mate with Saphira so bad, then go ahead!” Murtagh exclaimed. “I don’t fucking care.”

Thorn rubbed a hand over his eyes before he glared straight into Murtagh’s eyes. Murtagh nearly stumbled back a step.

“This isn’t about me; it’s about you,” Thorn said in stern voice.

“Me?” Murtagh laughed cruelly. “Then I think you have one too many screws loose in your head.”

Thorn stood up, forcing Murtagh to step back and bump into the couch. There was far too little space in-between them.

“No, _you’re_ the one with one too many loose screws in your head,” the hydra spat. “I haven’t even said a word yet, and you’re already in denial.”

“I know you, Thorn,” Murtagh growled. “You’re going to start sprouting some nonsense about mates and shit. How many times do I have to tell you that it’s not for me before the information sinks into your thick skull?!”

Thorn narrowed his eyes.

“You can’t know that it’s not for you until you’ve tried it.”  
  
“Unfortunately getting a mate is not a trial process,” Murtagh spat. “Once you’re mated there’s no way back!”

“There are vampires out there that have given in and tried out the mated life. They have all lived happily, Murtagh. It’s possible,” Thorn hissed.

“Not for me. But it doesn’t matter, seeing as I’m not mated,” Murtagh sneered.

“You arrogant, self-centred...” the redhead hissed angrily.

“Whatever Thorn, I’m not in the mood,” the other snorted and slipped away.

Thorn was beside him in a second, throwing him into the wall, two hands on his shoulders making sure that he stayed put.

“Let’s hope that Saphira has a wall-fetish, seeing as you just love to slam people into them,” Murtagh drawled.

Thorn growled angrily.

“Shut up, you fucking asshole! It’s my turn to talk!” he snarled.

“All you fucking do is to talk!”

“I have to when you refuse to listen to me!” Thorn roared.

“No, that’s your sign to give up,” Murtagh drawled nastily.

“Never,” Thorn hissed. “I have all the time in the world to make you listen. Just you wait and see Murtagh, I’ll make you listen.”

“Bring it on, tough guy,” Murtagh smirked. “Do your best.”

Thorn leaned in and snarled right in Murtagh’s face.

“Oh, I will Murtagh, I promise you; I will.”

**::OBSESSION::**

“It looks like everything’s moving along quite nicely,” Dr. Carn said and smiled.

Eragon let out a relieved breath. Beside him, Saphira grinned happily.

They were at the final exam before Dr. Carn would induce labour. Because of Eragon’s male body they would have to do a c-section, and that date was only two weeks away.

“It looks like you’re going to have a nice and healthy baby -”

“Don’t say the gender!” Eragon exclaimed.

Dr. Carn blinked. He chuckled and removed the scanner from Eragon’s stomach, holding out a paper towel for Eragon to wipe himself clean with.

“I forgot you didn’t want to know,” he let out a weak cough.

“Yeah,” Eragon said weakly and wiped the gel off his stomach.

“That’s quite alright,” Carn grinned. “You will know in two weeks anyway.”

The brunet tugged down his t-shirt and sighed. He hadn’t forgotten that little fact.

“I have scheduled for a c-section on the 9th,” Carn said and flipped through the forms he had picked up from his desk. “That is two weeks exactly before your actual due date, had you been female. If that date isn’t good, then we can reschedule. But I must warn you; the longer we wait, the bigger the chances are of internal damage.”

Eragon gulped. The doctor was looking at him with an eerily sombre look Eragon had never seen on his face before. Dr. Carn had always been there with an encouraging smile and a laugh. Now it was like he was looking at a totally different person.

“Your body isn’t build to give birth, no male body is,” Carn continued. “But because of the magical creatures out there things have changed. Doctors still aren’t sure how the phenomena male pregnancy occurs, but we know that one of the fathers have to be a magical creature of some kind. There are work-in-progress theories all around, but I won’t go too deeply into them.”

Eragon nearly let out a whimper. He truly didn’t want to hear more. He just wanted it to be over.

“Are you alright, Eragon?” Saphira murmured and squeezed his hand.

“Yeah...I just...” he shook his head.

“Wasn’t ready for a medical lecture,” Carn said and laughed softly. “I apologise, I didn’t mean to get carried away like that.”

“Its fine,” Eragon said softly.

“But the 9th of January is okay?”

Eragon nodded.

“Good. Sign here,” the doctor held out a form.

Eragon looked it over, made sure he understood what it said and signed.

“Your emergency contact is still your **_mneda_**?” Carn asked and quickly signed the same form.

“My what?” Eragon asked as he sat up.

Dr. Carn blinked before starting to laugh.

“He’s referring to me, your hydra,” Saphira smiled. “ ** _Mneda_** is the _Andelan_ word for the hydra part of the hydra/rider bond.”

“Oh,” Eragon said sheepishly. “Yeah, Saphira’s still my emergency contact.”

“Good,” Carn put down the forms and stood up to push away the monitor that had been used to look at the baby only minutes before. “Do you want a parental form to fill out after the birth?”

“A what?” Eragon frowned.

Saphira gripped his hand tighter and Eragon saw her shake her head. Dr. Carn frowned and sat back down by his desk.

“I see,” he said gravely.

“What?!” Eragon exclaimed.

“A parental form is the form where you write out who is the father and the mother of the child,” Saphira said softly. “It’s different from the birth certificate, because on that form you can choose yourself if you want to name the father of your child.”

Eragon felt his face turn white. He could choose if he wanted to write down Murtagh’s name?

“If you don’t want a parental form you’ll just get the birth certificate with your name and a blank spot in the place of the father’s,” Carn said sombrely.

“I can choose?” the brunet breathed.

“Yes. If you wish to add the father’s name afterwards, you can do that as well.”

Eragon looked away, his other hand curling into a fist.

“I doubt it,” he murmured bitterly.

“Eragon, don’t be like that,” Saphira whispered. “You never know what might happen.”

“I doubt he’ll come around, Saph.”

Dr. Carn sighed.

“I have never asked you before now because I felt it wasn’t my place to ask,” he said softly. “And seeing as I can see no physical traits of the father, I can’t say which specie he is or what you mean to him. But a child is a special thing, especially to magical creatures.”

“Not to him,” Eragon shook his head. “He despises the thought of having a family.”

Something flashed in Dr. Carn’s eyes, and for a minute Eragon was afraid that he had given himself away.

“I won’t pry anymore, Eragon,” he folded his hands and smiled gently. “Some things are simply not my business. There are just times we doctors like to know if there’s a possibility of an angry second parent storming into the operating room, demanding to know what’s going on.”

Eragon smiled sadly at the attempt at making a joke.

“There is no possibility of that happening, Dr. Carn,” he said quietly.

Eragon could have sworn there was a flash of sadness in Dr. Carn’s eyes, but it was gone before he could really make it out.

**::OBSESSION::**

There was a pair of large windows in the living room. During the night, Murtagh slipped soundless out of the bedroom he shared with Thorn and walked over to the windows. He stared at them for a minute before opening one of them. Then he sat down, one foot on the window ledge and the other hanging on the inside of the house.

There he lost himself in the flow of time

Something was changing; he could feel it in the wind. A cold draft flew past him and into the house, but Murtagh barely noticed. He hadn’t felt hot or cold since he had been a pre-teen. Or rather, he hadn’t felt cold since that day back in Durza’s castle.

Murtagh clenched his jaw. He hated to think about the coven, and therefore rarely did it. But even so, there were times when things slipped past his defences and struck him hard.

“Are you stark raving mad?!”

Murtagh sighed. He turned his head lazily and looked at Thorn with disinterest. The hydra was packed in a thick blanket and was shivering as he glared at Murtagh.

“Yes,” Murtagh said with a smirk.

“I don’t care. Just close that bloody window!” Thorn spat.

The vampire rolled his eyes. He slid off the ledge and shut the window soundlessly. Thorn grunted and slumped down onto the couch.

“Not going back to bed?” Murtagh drawled.

“It’s six in the frigging morning, and I’m too bloody awake to go back to sleep now thanks to your idiocy,” Thorn growled.

Murtagh rolled his eyes. Thorn just loved to be melodramatic.

“There’s something I’ve been meaning to ask you...” Thorn trailed off.

The hazel eyed man blinked. He slowly approached Thorn and sat down in one of the armchairs on the other side of the coffee table.

“What are you going to do if I do decide to start a family of my own?” the redhead tilted his head.

“Continue wandering alone,” Murtagh shrugged.

It was no big deal; he had almost gotten used to the thought already.

“Did you miss me when you were on Illium?”

Murtagh frowned. What sort of question was that?

“...Perhaps.”

“Then won’t you miss me or feel lonely if you were to travel around alone?” Thorn asked pointedly.

“I suppose,” Murtagh rolled his eyes. “So what?”

“Are you sure you can handle being alone?” Thorn pressed on.

“I was alone for two years before you found me, Thorn,” the other drawled. “And then I was far younger than I was now. I think I can handle it.”

“Can you really handle being alone for the rest of your long, long life?” Thorn crocked an eyebrow.

“Yes,” the vampire hissed. “Now knock it off. You annoy me.”

“That is my mission in life,” the redhead replied dryly. “And you’re lying, Murtagh.”

“What do you know?”

“A lot more than you,” Thorn snorted.

“Fuck you,” Murtagh spat and stood up. “I’m not awake enough to handle this.”

“You never went to sleep,” Thorn drawled. “Don’t think I don’t know.”

Murtagh sneered down at him.

“You’re losing sleep again,” the hydra sighed. “Vanir will be here next week with more blood; you’ll have to find another way to go to sleep until then.”

He was tempted to spit in Thorn’s face. Not everything had to be about the hunger! He could act independently of it, or else he would never have been able to mess the chimera up as much as he had and still left him alive. Murtagh nearly flinched when he was assaulted with flashes from the fight. The chimera had put up one hell of a fight. He couldn’t remember what he had said or what the other had said, but he remembered stopping. Murtagh had been watching the life drain from the chimera’s eyes, and suddenly he had flinched away from him. He still wasn’t sure why.

“Not everything is about the fucking hunger,” Murtagh spat.

“...” Thorn frowned. “Then what?”  
  
“It’s none of your business,” he replied darkly.

“You are my business, Murtagh,” Thorn countered. “Is something wrong?”

“No, nothing’s wrong,” Murtagh taunted.

“Obviously something is, or you wouldn’t be going through another insomnia period,” Thorn drawled and stood slowly. “Did the coven do something to you while you were there?”

“A little late to be asking that, don’t you think?” the vampire sneered. “But no, sorry to disappoint, they didn’t.”

“Why were you sitting in the window ledge?” Thorn asked slowly.

“Because I felt like it,” Murtagh rolled his eyes.

“Not because something was drawing you away from here or...”

“Che, no,” Murtagh raised an eyebrow sceptically.

Murtagh felt even more suspicious when Thorn almost looked disappointed.

“You’re becoming weirder by the day,” he drawled.

Thorn just glared at him.

“I wouldn’t need to if you would just be normal for one frigging second,” he snapped.

“Me, normal?” Murtagh laughed loudly. “You must be joking.”

“Unfortunately no,” Thorn growled. “I think I’ll actually try to get some more sleep. Good night.”

Murtagh watched in amusement as Thorn stalked into the bedroom and slammed the door shut.

**::OBSESSION::**

Eragon stared aimlessly out of the window. Christmas day had ended just ten minutes ago according to the clock on the wall. Eragon had never experienced a more tiring Christmas. And yet he didn’t want to go to sleep.

Eragon had been honestly surprised when he had woken up that morning and had found the living room filled with people. The lone tree in the corner suddenly seemed too small to hold in all the presents and the room oozed of familiarity and happiness. Eragon had almost pinched himself to make sure it wasn’t a dream.

He couldn’t believe how many people that had been there. Brom, Saphira and Aksel of course, but Arya, Nasuada and Ajihad, Nasuada’s father, had been there as well. Vanir had dropped by, but had left just as quickly. Brom almost looked tempted to make the magician stay --though Eragon couldn’t be sure why-- but Vanir managed to slip away.

The entire morning was spent opening present upon present. Almost everyone had gotten him baby things, mostly clothes and such. Eragon hadn’t even realised he had needed most of it. Eragon’s room had already been equipped with all the basic things he would need after the surgery, but he realised there were things he was still missing.

That thought had stayed with him the rest of the day. It was just impossible for him to forget that he was going to be a parent in just two weeks. Everyone had left gradually after a dinner Eragon couldn’t even remember eating, and he had been sitting in the same spot ever since.

The brunet laid a hand on his stomach. He had given up trying to hide it long ago; sometime around his sixth month he reckoned. By now he would have needed an extra large t-shirt to hide it, and even then he couldn’t hide it when he stood in profile. He was huge!

Eragon gently massaged his stomach. The child had been very active during the past few months, especially the last week. The child seemed like it was ready to come out. Eragon, however, wasn’t so sure he was ready for it to come. There was so much he had yet to do! He didn’t know the gender of the baby, he didn’t know what he was going to call them, and despite everything Saphira, Arya and Nasuada had taught him, he still didn’t feel ready.

Eragon opened his mouth, hesitating a bit before closing it again. He had heard that it was good to talk to the baby, but he rarely did so outside of the confines of his room.

“Hey,” Eragon murmured softly, giving in without really noticing. “You’re coming out soon. Are you excited?”

He smiled sadly when he felt a kick under his hand.

“I can’t wait to see you either, but I don’t know if I’m ready,” he said sadly. “I’m just a nineteen year old boy; I don’t know how to be a parent!”

There was a slight flutter under his skin.

“Then again, who really is ready to be a parent when it’s time?” he sighed. “I just...a part of me wish that your father would be here to experience this too. Not because I care about him, but because I don’t want to do this alone.”

Eragon closed his eyes and leaned back.

“I know it’s selfish of me, and that I’m not really alone, but I kind of am. There’s just me to take care of you fulltime. Aksel will be busy with his classes most of the day and his studies during the afternoon, Saphira will be busy with her own job and Brom...well, Brom is Brom. So I’m basically alone. And I just wish there was someone there that was involved as I am when it comes to you.”

He opened his eyes and glared out at the night outside.

“I wish your father wasn’t a complete nut-job, I wish I was more prepared for all of this...” he trailed off. “But it doesn’t make a difference. I could wish it a thousand times and still it wouldn’t come true. So for now I’ll just have to deal.”

Eragon looked down at his stomach and cupped it with both of his hands. He still hadn’t gotten used to the firm, yet soft feeling of it, and he knew he never would.

“I just will have to pray I won’t screw up,” he whispered hotly. “And I’ll pray that your father never finds us.”

He sighed and ran a hand over his eyes, finally feeling the sleepiness overcome him. As he yawned and stood up, he didn’t notice the other door to the living room close soundlessly.

**::OBSESSION::**

Christmas with Thorn had always been a rather quiet. They hadn’t exchanged gifts since Murtagh had turned fifteen and had yelled for Thorn to leave him alone. It seemed like it was so long ago, so long that Murtagh couldn’t believe it had merely been nine years.

Murtagh frowned at that thought. He thought back and realised he had turned twenty-four without even realising it. Ever year Thorn would mention it, usually in a sentence that hinted just how long he had withstood Murtagh’s crap, but that year it had been nothing. He laughed loudly when he realised his birthday had been the same day he had abandoned Thorn in Carvahall. Of course he had managed to get caught by the coven the next day. How fitting.

Murtagh hummed along to the radio, once again bored out of his mind. He laid spread across the couch, one arm under his head, one leg hanging over the end of the couch, bouncing slightly to the beat of the song.

“I got a question.”

He let out a disbelieving moan.

“Will you never tire of giving me the fucking third degree?!” Murtagh snarled and turned around.

Vanir sneered. Murtagh blinked in surprise. It had been a while since Vanir had bothered to talk to him.

“I do believe this is the first time I’ve asked you a question in a good couple of months,” he drawled.

“Oh, I miss those times already,” Murtagh drawled back.

Vanir crossed his arms, looking both bored and unimpressed.

“Sure, whatever, go ahead,” the vampire rolled his eyes and looked away.

Murtagh could hear him step closer. He stopped a few steps away and snorted.

“How’s your temperature? Any relapses?”

Murtagh tipped his head back and laughed.

“That’s not what you came here to ask me. You could easily have gotten that out of Thorn,” he said dryly. “Spit it out, princess.”

Vanir growled. Murtagh sniggered and sent the magician an amused look.

“Because Thorn is tired of your goddamn behaviour, he asked me to see if I got a different answer out of you,” Vanir drawled and rolled his eyes.

“...But you don’t believe that,” Murtagh sat up. “Interesting. I know you won’t, but interesting. What’s the question, princess?”

Vanir snarled.

“Why did you lash out on that chimera boy? I saw him afterwards, you know. I have never seen anyone get mangled up that badly and live,” he spat.

“What, he survived?” Murtagh groaned. “Well, great.”

“You will not be going off to finish him,” Vanir growled.

“I didn’t plan to!”

Vanir didn’t need to know that was exactly what Murtagh was planning to do the second Thorn let him off the island.

“You can’t lie to save your own arse,” Vanir snorted.

Murtagh rolled his eyes.

“And you didn’t answer my question.”

“Hm? Oh, why I tried to cut down on the chimera population?” Murtagh shrugged.

“And don’t tell me he provoked you. That fool knows better,” Vanir drawled nastily.

“Well, if he didn’t, he does now,” Murtagh smirked.

“You’re impossible!” Vanir hissed. “How does Thorn stand you?!”

Murtagh stared at him for a minute.

“I have no idea.”

Vanir frowned.

“Still, an answer?” he pressed on.

Murtagh waved him off. Before he had quite finished the motion, he felt a hand just under his jaw poised to strike. It was hot, and Murtagh could see that it was glowing; dark green if he wasn’t mistaken.

“Unlike Thorn, I would feel no pain from harming you,” Vanir hissed darkly. “So, an answer if you please.”

“Why I attacked that piece of shit?” Murtagh didn’t even flinch when the hand was pressed tighter against his neck, almost feeling sharp enough to be a blade. “He annoyed me.”

Vanir snorted in disgust.

“Sure he did. I want to know why he annoyed you, smartass.”

“Why should I answer to you?” Murtagh growled.

“Because Thorn has given me the go-ahead to hurt you,” Vanir smirked.

Murtagh cursed. The traitor!

“Well?!” the magician hissed.

“It has everything to do with me and nothing to do with you,” Murtagh said smugly.

Before Vanir could open his mouth to speak a single spell, Murtagh was crouched behind him. Murtagh was holding a very real blade to the magician’s neck and his other hand held down the hand Vanir needed to cast spells with.

“Well well, what do we have here?” Murtagh whispered nastily into the other’s ear. “Seem like the little magician ran into a little trouble. Why don’t you get your fucking nose out of my business, huh? That way I don’t have to hurt you too.”

Vanir just snorted. Murtagh didn’t even have time to blink before Vanir was gone. He turned around and raised an eyebrow at the pissed figure in the doorway.

“If you’re too afraid to admit the reason to yourself, then you can just say that instead of attacking everyone around you,” Vanir snarled. “Then again, you wouldn’t be in denial if you did that, and then you wouldn’t be you.”

Before Murtagh could reply, Vanir had stalked out of the door and was gone.

**::OBSESSION::**

Thorn and Saphira spoke once every day. She let him in on Eragon’s condition and Thorn told her about Murtagh’s behaviour.

It had become a daily ritual for them after he had finally managed to track down Murtagh’s stubborn ass. Now Thorn wasn’t quite sure how he would survive without hearing from the other hydra at least once a day. Thorn was almost certain that was the one thing that kept him sane. Being around Murtagh for too long could make even the most sane man crazy.

New Years Eve was only a day away, and Thorn was all too aware of the surgery that was taking place in only a few short days. And Murtagh was nowhere near ready to meet, let alone learn of his offspring.

The hydra leaned back against the wall, highly aware of the darkness around him and the eerie silence inside the house, and sighed. It was a horrible thought, actually. Had it been anyone but Murtagh, Thorn would have felt horrible to keep the knowledge of fatherhood from them. But seeing as it was indeed Murtagh, someone who was prone to killing people that even mentioned fatherhood, Thorn had no choice but to keep that fact under wraps

Thorn ruffled his hands through his hair, forcing down a groan as he did so. Too bad he was running out of options. Because of Murtagh’s near phobia of children, he had refrained from mentioning them now. But Thorn wasn’t sure if there was any way around it anymore. He had no choice but to try a lethal combination; trying to appeal to Murtagh’s subconscious and perhaps nonexistent wish to procreate whilst talking about mates. He just needed to make Murtagh see that if he had a mate, he could have all the bloody children he wanted without worrying about any of them growing up to be sadistic little bastards. Or at least they wouldn’t grow up to be sadistic little _vampire_ bastards.

“Could you shut up?! I can bloody hear you thinking!”

Thorn stiffened. He knew Murtagh hadn’t meant it literally, but it didn’t stop him from being scared that he actually had heard him, even if only for a split second.

“Awake at this hour, Tag?” Thorn drawled. “Shouldn’t you be getting your beauty sleep?”

Murtagh snorted. He padded out of their shared room and glared at him. Thorn knew it, Murtagh knew it; the vampire hadn’t been sleeping well lately. Thorn suspected nightmares, but Murtagh just kept brushing him off.

“Chatting with Saphira again? You don’t need to hide from me, I know what you’re doing,” Murtagh rolled his eyes. “And I don’t bloody care. I’ve told you again and again to leave me.”

“Oh, I couldn’t,” Thorn sneered. “Leave your glorious presence? Why, I’d die!”

Murtagh smirked.

“I always knew you fancied me,” he chuckled.

“Like hell,” Thorn shuddered. “I’d rather take Vanir than you.”

Murtagh sniggered.

“I can’t be that bad, now can I?” he asked between laughs.

Thorn just raised an eyebrow.

“Well, now that that’s settled,” Murtagh yawned and walked back into the room.

Thorn sighed tiredly. He followed and entered the room just in time to see Murtagh turn his back to the door. The hydra frowned and quickly got ready for bed. He sat down and leaned back against the wall, pulling the covers over his lap as he did so.

“Why are you so bloody against having kids?” Thorn asked softly.

He saw Murtagh stiffen. Ah, so he hadn’t gone back to sleep yet. Perfect.

“You know why,” Murtagh growled.

“If you were willing to look for your mate, you wouldn’t be raising vampire children, you know,” Thorn said calmly, though he was sure that Murtagh could hear his heart speeding up. “Not everything has to be so difficult.”

Murtagh turned around and glared at him. Thorn didn’t have to look closely to see that Murtagh was on the edge of changing eye-colour. He would have to tread carefully.

“I know you’re not exactly gagging to be a dad,” the redhead drawled. “But if you did have a mate, you would be able to someday.”

Murtagh did not look convinced, not that Thorn had expected him to change his mind so quickly.

“I know, I know; you hate the thought of being tied down. You would still be able to travel, with or without your mate; you would just need to drink off of them once a month or so, depending on your mood,” Thorn tilted his head. “It’s no different than what you’ve gotten used to right now, is it?”

“I’m doing this because you leave me no bloody choice,” Murtagh spat in reply.

Thorn raised a hand and started to massage his temples. Bloody stubborn rider.

“Murtagh, this person would be your everything. You’d finally have a purpose in life. I know you’ve secretly been searching for one.”

Murtagh sneered. Alright, so that had been a bad angle.

“Fine, let’s see if I can speak vampiric,” Thorn sneered. “You’d always have someone to feed off of, someone to screw whenever you’d want to, someone that would always be with you. We both know I won’t stick around forever. Either you kick me out or I take off.”

The other didn’t comment.

“How long has it been since you got laid, huh? How long since you tasted fresh blood?” Thorn swallowed the slight sickness he got from mentioning the last part. “With a mate you would have access to both of them without ever having to worry about the blood tasting off or the person not being good in bed. What do you say?”

Murtagh was still silent. Thorn held his breath. He could hear Murtagh’s breathing and see Murtagh’s eyes glimmering. At least he hadn’t fallen asleep, or Thorn would have smacked him.

“Why would I want anyone but you, huh, Thorn? You’re such a great lay,” Murtagh smirked.

Thorn cursed mentally. He really thought he had gotten through to him!

“Fuck you, asshole!”

“If you insist,” Murtagh laughed.

Thorn watched him turn over and slowly fall asleep. He glared at Murtagh’s back before lying down himself.

He knew it hadn’t been a total waste, though. Murtagh hadn’t denied any of his last statements. Maybe, just maybe a part of what he had said had gotten through to him. Thorn was determined to go back on the offensive first thing in the morning. He would have to act while the doubt in Murtagh’s mind was still fresh.

Maybe he would finally have some good news to give Saphira.

**::OBSESSION::**

Saphira had been a little skittish the last couple of days. Eragon wasn’t sure why, but he knew that if it was something truly bad going on, she would tell him.

New Years had come and gone, but Eragon didn’t really care. All he cared about was the surgery he was scheduled to have in a week. Time was passing impossibly fast, and Eragon still wasn’t ready. Then again, he knew he never was going to be. It still didn’t change the fact that he wished he had had more time to prepare himself.

He lay on bed, just feeling the time pass slowly. One of his hands was rubbing his stomach while the other arm rested over his head, his fingers occasionally tugging at a strand of hair. He sighed and rubbed his forearm over his forehead. He hadn’t been feeling too good lately. He didn’t know if it was nerves or something else, but he hadn’t told anyone yet. Eragon didn’t want to bother them if it was nothing.

Eragon lifted his arm slightly, staring blankly at the small band-aid he found there. Vanir had been there yesterday. He hadn’t said anything, but Eragon had gotten the feeling that the magician was keeping something from them. He had missed Thorn then; at least Thorn talked to Saphira.

He winced when the baby kicked again. As the days had gone by, the baby had only gotten more and more active. He knew that was normal, but he was scared. He was a guy; he wasn’t supposed to have a baby inside of him! What if something went wrong?

Eragon exhaled and forced himself to calm down. Nothing was wrong; he was just overreacting.

“Mornin’ sunshine!”

Eragon sighed. He lifted his head and glared at Aksel. The blond winked back.

“Up and at’em!” Aksel grinned widely. “The sun’s shining, the birds are singing -”

“That’s complete bullshit,” Eragon drawled. “It’s the middle of winter; the only sacred time there are no birds around to annoy me.”

“Tsk, so cruel,” Aksel shook his head. “Anyhow, breakfast waits for no one!”

“Oh, so I’m allowed outside of these four walls now?” Eragon snorted and started to push himself up.

Aksel was instantly beside him, pulling him up more properly. Eragon always forgot that he couldn’t do that quite as easily anymore.

“You have for the past few weeks -”

“Sarcasm, Aksel,” Eragon sighed.

“I know,” the blond said and grinned. “I just love annoying you.”

Eragon glared at him and pulled the shirt more firmly down over his large stomach.

“The only thing I’m looking for with this baby is the look on your face when it wakes you up for the sixth time in a row,” Eragon smirked.

“So mean,” Aksel pouted.

The brunet sighed. Even if he didn’t admit it, he was glad to have Aksel beside him when he walked. Fatigue and stumbling had become quite normal the last month and a half; something Eragon despised. He hated to look weak.

“How’s junior on this beautiful day?”

Eragon rolled his eyes. Aksel slipped ahead and held the door open for him. He was almost tempted to kick Aksel as he passed, and he would have hadn’t he been afraid of falling over if he did so.

“Very active,” Eragon replied.

“What do you expect?”

Aksel closed his mouth. He sniggered and slipped ahead into the kitchen. Eragon sighed again and followed more slowly. Brom chuckled and stood to join them.

“Well, I was hoping that the kid would learn not to kick me in the kidneys after the tenth time,” Eragon answered him dryly.

“At least the kid’s going to be out of you soon,” Brom said with a wink.

“Yeah,” Eragon shuddered.

Aksel grinned and pulled out a chair. Eragon murmured a sour _thank you_ and sat down.

“Want some grub?” the chimera asked.

“No thanks,” Eragon winced. “Breakfast and I don’t agree with each other.”

Aksel shrugged and got busy with making a large breakfast for himself. Eragon poured some water into a glass and sipped it. He shivered when he felt someone looking at him. He frowned and sent Brom a confused look.

“I have been thinking about something, boy,” Brom said and folded his hands on top of the table.

Eragon gulped. He didn’t know why, but that didn’t sound too good.

“There is a couple I’d like you to meet,” the older man continued.

Aksel was instantly there, looking at them eagerly.

“Just eat your breakfast, Aksel.”

Eragon smiled when Saphira finally joined them. She covered her mouth as she yawned. Aksel dug into his breakfast, though he kept looking up every once in a while.

“You were saying, sir?” Saphira said and brushed some hair out of her face.

“There’s someone I think Eragon would be quite interested to meet,” Brom chuckled. “It might even do him good.”

“Who?” Eragon asked.

“I can’t spoil the surprise,” Brom smirked.

“When then?” the brunet asked.

“After the pregnancy is over,” he replied. “Maybe in February, if you’re up for it.”

“Why so soon?” Saphira asked.

“There’s a very special reason I want him to meet them, and I think he should meet them as soon as possible,” Brom said seriously.

Eragon fingered the glass in his hands. What did that mean?

“But first of all you need to get through the end of the pregnancy.”

Eragon gulped. Why did people keep mentioning it? It just made him feel more nervous.

“Eragon, are you alright?” Saphira asked worriedly.

He blinked.

“Um, yeah, sure.”

“You don’t sound too sure,” Brom snorted.

“I just, the baby keep moving around a lot,” he said sheepishly.

Instead of the worry disappearing from their eyes, it seemed to increase.

“I’m fine. It’s just a mild discomfort,” Eragon lied. “The doctor said that was normal.”

 _-Don’t lie to me, Eragon,-_ Saphira scolded.

_-Fine, so I don’t feel that good. But I’m okay, really.-_

Saphira just narrowed her eyes even more.

“Eragon?” Brom asked with a frown.

“He’s not feeling so good.”

“It’s only because the baby keep kicking me in the kidneys! It hurts, that’s all,” Eragon interrupted.

“And that’s all?” Brom drawled; his eyes narrowed in suspicion.

Aksel had even stopped eating and was watching the scene unfold.

Eragon opened his mouth to speak, but another kick had him yelping out loud instead. Saphira turned in her seat in a flash and laid a hand on his stomach. She frowned when the baby kicked again.

Brom stood up and walked around the table. He rolled up his right sleeve and crouched down. Eragon felt his eyes widen when he saw the tattoos on his arm. Brom pressed two fingers to an intricate black and grey tattoo and whispered two words. Eragon blinked when Brom’s left hand started to glow a muted green colour.

“Wha?”

“Don’t forget that I was a rider too, Eragon,” Brom smirked and started to pull up the brunet’s shirt. “Now let’s take a look at junior.”

Aksel, who had been leaning over the table, froze, as did Saphira and Brom. Eragon looked down and froze too.

“Why haven’t you told us about this?” Saphira hissed.

“I-I didn’t...” Eragon stuttered.

And he hadn’t. Even though his hands would seek out his stomach, he rarely had the courage to look at it. He couldn’t remember the last time he had looked at himself in the mirror. But now he cursed himself for not having dared too.

There were angry, purple bruises across his ribs and slight along the right side of his stomach. Brom prodded it gently and Eragon hissed in pain.

“Nothing’s broken, but this is far more severe than I expected,” Brom said gruffly. “We need to get you to a hospital.”

“Why, what’s wrong?” Eragon asked, his heart starting to beat faster in panic.

“Nothing, yet,” Brom said gravely. “But we need to get you over to make sure there is no internal bleeding.”

Eragon let out a soft whimper. He just prayed and hoped that everything was okay.

**::OBSESSION::**

Thorn paced around in the living room. Saphira had called him only a half-hour before to let him in on the situation. He was worried about Eragon, worried about Saphira and strangely enough, worried about his rider.

Murtagh showed no recollection of their midnight conversation ever having taken place. The next day Thorn had wanted to smack him, but there was something about Murtagh that had made him hesitate. The vampire showed no signs of wanting to change his beliefs, but he seemed different somehow. But Thorn was confident that if a change of beliefs happened, Murtagh would come to him.

However, it was the sublets of changes in Murtagh that made Thorn worry. Murtagh was thinking, and that wasn’t always a good thing.

Thorn paused mid-step. So far he had been able to hear soft sounds coming from the bedroom, but now it was quiet. He cursed and stormed inside. The window was open, letting in the cold winter air. He grabbed a jacket and ran out the front door.

He couldn’t believe Murtagh! He thought he had at least gotten the vampire on better thoughts; but now he was running again?! Thorn snarled and ran after Murtagh’s soft footprints in the snow.

The hydra started to count ways he was going to kill Murtagh when he caught up with him. He only got to eight when he skidded to a stop.

Before him with his back to the world, Murtagh stood proudly. He hadn’t bothered to put on a jacket, something that irked Thorn. Even if he didn’t get cold, Murtagh didn’t have to be that stupid. The vampire stood on the very edge of a cliff, the ocean sounding unusually quiet below them.

Thorn frowned. He slowly walked forward. Murtagh wasn’t running after all?

“It’s nice out here, isn’t it?” Murtagh drawled.

Murtagh turned his head as if he was going to look behind him, but looked back ahead just as quickly; like he had changed his mind. Even though there was no sound from the ocean, the wind whipped around them coldly. Thorn shuddered.

“What are you doing?” he asked sharply.

“I was taking a walk, and decided to stop here.”

“Bullshit,” Thorn spat. “You ran here! You can’t have been gone more than two minutes before I noticed you were gone. This isn’t exactly within walking distance from the house.”

“Whatever,” Murtagh snorted.

“What are you really doing out here?”

For a while Murtagh didn’t answer. Thorn stalked forward, intending to kick the answer out of him, when Murtagh spoke.

“Why are you so worried?”

Thorn paused. Murtagh turned around, his hands slipped into his pockets and his back crouched into a bored posture.

“You were pacing quite nicely around in the living room,” Murtagh tilted his head. “Why?”

Thorn gritted his teeth. Murtagh couldn’t know why, not yet.

“Did something happen to your little girlfriend?” the vampire asked with a smirk.

“Why do you care?” Thorn growled. “Just get your ass back to the house.”

“Nah, I want to stay,” the smirk widened. “I’ll walk back when you tell me what has happened.”

The hydra growled.

“It’s none of your damn business,” he hissed.

Thorn reached out to grab him, but Murtagh slipped away from his reach too quickly. Thorn had to hold himself back from attacking his rider.

“Couldn’t you just respect my privacy this once?” Thorn asked darkly.

Murtagh looked at him, suddenly turning sombre. Thorn blinked. What was going on inside Murtagh’s mind?

“I could say the same about you, Thorn,” Murtagh said coldly.

Thorn watched mutely as Murtagh walked up to him, their shoulders barely brushing as he walked around him. The redhead turned around. Murtagh was walking straight ahead, the same way he had come. Thorn blinked and walked after him, his head filled with new reasons to worry.

**::OBSESSION::**

Saphira drummed her fingers against the armrest of her chair. She and Brom had taken Eragon to the hospital an hour ago. Doctor Carn had greeted them with an unusually stern look and ushered Eragon into an examination room. She and Brom had been told to stay outside.

Brom was pacing back and forth in the waiting room. Because it was a private clinic there weren’t many people there with them. And even though Saphira was worried about Eragon, there was one thing that wouldn’t leave her mind; the look that had passed between Carn and Brom before the doctor had slipped into the room with Eragon.

“Sir?”

Brom paused. He stalked over to the seat beside her and sat down.

“Yes?” he asked in a very controlled voice.

He was obviously as worried as she was.

“Do you know Dr. Carn?”

Brom turned to look at her. She merely blinked as he continued to study her.

“Yes, I do,” he replied finally. “We’ve met a few times. He’s a good friend of Angela’s.”

Angela? Saphira vaguely remembered her to be the woman working in the strange shop Brom had gotten the bag he had later given to Eragon.

“Oh.”

“If there’s anyone that can take care of Eragon right now, it’s him,” Brom said, his hands folded tightly together as he stared out into the room.

Saphira wanted to ask, but knew it wasn’t her place to do so.

Brom stood up so suddenly she jolted. She looked up in time to see an extremely tired-looking Carn walk over to them. Worry instantly hit her. She stood up and started to wring her hands.

“It’s not looking too good,” Carn said gravely. “I don’t know what might have happened if you waited even one more day to bring him over.”

Saphira wanted to sob.

“We’ve rushed him to surgery,” Carn continued. “He has started to bleed into his abdomen, something that explains the discomfort he has been feeling. But to be able to do the surgery, we’re going to have to perform a c-section first, to save the child.”

Saphira closed her eyes tightly. This couldn’t be happening.

“It’s unfortunately common for males to get internal bleeding during the last stage of the pregnancy. That’s why we do the c-section two weeks before the due date. Unfortunately there are cases where the child wants to come out earlier than normal; this is what happened to Eragon,” the doctor sighed. “But since we caught it this early, there’s a very good chance he’ll pull through.”

“Good chance?” Saphira hissed, opening her eyes to glare at him.

“We can’t say for sure,” Carn said, looking very sad to be delivering such news. “We’ll know more once the c-section has been completed.”

Saphira hugged herself tightly.

“I’ll keep you posted, but now I have to run off to the surgery,” Carn crouched down and looked into her eyes. “I’m sorry.”

She looked away, tears in her eyes. She mutedly heard Carn and Brom exchange a few words before Carn practically ran off. She felt herself being lowered into a seat.

“He’ll be fine, Saphira,” Brom said softly. “He’s tough.”

“I know.”

Brom sighed and pulled her to his chest. She buried her head into his soft jacket and cried silently. She couldn’t help but to wish that it had been Thorn’s arms that were holding her, not Brom’s.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> **Andelan Vocabulary:**  
>  _Mneda_ – The word for "hydra", here meaning the hydra half of a rider/hydra bond


	11. I'll Always Worry

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I just want to thank everyone who is still reading and leaving comments on this old thing, as well as my other stories on here. You guys are awesome. :) 
> 
> I have also finally settled into my new place abroad. And now I finally have internet! :D I'll do my best to update this story at least monthly. I don't know if I'll have time or energy to do it more often, but I should be able to do that at least. :)
> 
> But now over to how everything turned out after the cliffhanger that was the last chapter.
> 
> Beware that this chapter contains emotional manipilation.
> 
>  _-Speech.-_ Murtagh/Thorn talking to each other mentally.

_::January::_

Murtagh stared up at the ceiling. He laid down as he had a million times before, entirely apathetic to the world outside. His arms were crossed under his head as he lay on the floor. His feet were stretched up against the wall, crossed in a comfortable position.

The window was still open. Thorn must have forgotten to close it, and Murtagh didn’t care enough to do so. It wasn’t like he could feel the cold anyway.

He closed his eyes and allowed his mind to drift to the pacing figure outside of the room. Thorn had followed him back, even smacked the door shut as Murtagh had walked inside, and then he had gone right back to pacing. Something was obviously wrong.

He yawned and intended to find something else to do when Thorn’s phone rang. Murtagh opened his eyes and continued to listen.

_“How are things?”_

Thorn sounded very worried indeed, and Murtagh knew there were few things in this world that would worry him to such a degree.

 _“Fuck,”_ Thorn practically moaned.

Murtagh blinked. He frowned slightly as he tilted his head to look at the closed door.

 _“How soon will you know?”_ Thorn asked quietly.

Another pause.

_“Fuck, I’m sorry, Saphira. I wish -”_

Murtagh pushed himself away from the wall and stood soundlessly. He walked over to the door and leaned against it.

 _“He’ll make it through this, Saph, I know he will,”_ Thorn said softly.

To Murtagh it sounded like he was trying to convince himself as much as Saphira. Murtagh wondered who they were talking about and what was going on.

 _“Of course they’ll both make it through! They have to,”_ the redhead said almost pleadingly.

Silence. Murtagh tilted his head and crocked an eyebrow. Suddenly there were more people involved?

_“How did this happen anyhow?!”_

The vampire fingered the doorknob. He wasn’t going to enter the room just yet; that would ruin everything.

 _“Oh, that...”_ Thorn growled. _“There isn’t a day I don’t think about it; wishing that I had paid closer attention. Then maybe, just maybe everything wouldn’t have gotten so fucked up and Eragon wouldn’t be -”_

Murtagh froze.

 _“I’m not blaming myself, I just wish-”_ Thorn paused. _“No, I know that, Saphira! I just, please just listen!”_

Eragon was in trouble? The people Thorn had been talking about, it had been Eragon and the kid he was carrying, he was sure of that now. His hand gripped the doorknob tightly.

 _“I can’t stop myself from wondering about the ‘_ what if’ _s!”_ Thorn exclaimed. _“Listen Saph, this isn’t going anywhere. You need to tell the others about this, and...Oh, you have? Good. Anyhow, you need to stay sane for Eragon right now. When he comes out he’ll need you.”_

Comes out? As in ‘comes out of surgery’? He couldn’t see what other kind of situation that would make Thorn act this way.

 _“Please, just call me the second you know something new,”_ Thorn murmured. _“Hang in there; he’ll be fine.”_

Murtagh pushed open the door without really noticing it. He coolly looked out through the small crack, just in time to see Thorn’s expression turn sombre.

“You just worry about Eragon; I’ll take care of _him_ ,” he muttered. “Bye.”

Thorn hung up and Murtagh watched him toss the phone carelessly onto the couch. The hydra then leaned onto the wall and slid down to the floor, his head hanging forward dejectedly. Thorn’s hands were curled by his side, his knuckles already turning white. Murtagh slipped out of the room and let the door shut with a loud bang.

Thorn looked up at him in horror.

“So, how’s the rider doing?” Murtagh drawled.

Thorn’s face quickly turned dark with anger.

“That’s none of your goddamn business!” he hissed.

“I know he’s in surgery, and I know stuff is serious enough for your girlfriend to be panicked. What harm is it to tell me what’s going on?”

Thorn stood up stiffly.

“You have no reason to want to know what’s going on in Eragon’s life,” the redhead said coldly.

“Must we have this discussion every time I as much as say something that can be remotely linked back to the rider brat?” Murtagh crocked an eyebrow.

“Yes,” Thorn replied darkly. “Because you always have an underlying reason; nothing you do or say is **purely accidental**.”

Murtagh crossed his arms.

“Tell me anyway.”

Thorn sneered at him.

“I don’t think I will,” he said nastily.

“Are he and the kid going to die?” Murtagh tilted his head.

“Why do you care?!” Thorn exclaimed.

“Humour me,” Murtagh shrugged.

“You fucking selfish bastard!” the redhead roared. “This isn’t some comedy show you can tune in on whenever you please! Forget about Eragon already!! I’m never letting you see him again.”

Murtagh was at his throat in an instant. His hands were clenched painfully around Thorn’s; holding him effectively down. Murtagh opened his mouth and blew air onto Thorn’s exposed throat. The hydra shook with rage.

“You don’t rule over me,” Murtagh muttered coldly. “I come and go as I please, you hear me? If I want to see him again, then I bloody well will. He’s mine and he always will be.”

Thorn stiffened. Murtagh never relaxed his grip around Thorn’s hands, though he leaned back to look into the hydra’s eyes. The red colour was glimmering strangely.

“What did you say?” Thorn asked softly.

“He’s mine,” Murtagh drawled, smirking softly as he did so.

“Yours to...?” Thorn crocked an eyebrow.

“Drain, kill, own,” Murtagh grinned evilly. “Possess even. I had him first; no one gets to touch him again until I’m through with him.”

“You bastard, you _fucking_ bastard,” Thorn hissed.

“What? Did you think I was going to say that he was my mate?” Murtagh laughed loudly. “How stupid are you?”

“Murtagh -”

“You know just as well as me how it is,” the vampire chuckled. “Pure bullshit, that’s what that is.”

Thorn was turning red. Murtagh quite enjoyed the effect he was having on the hydra.

When Murtagh was sure Thorn was too stunned to attack him; he let go. He smirked and turned around to walk back into his room.

“They can both die,” Thorn said harshly.

Murtagh looked over his shoulder.

“Or only one. But we both know which death would affect you,” Thorn narrowed his eyes. “Just once I wish you would acknowledge it. Ever since you met him you haven’t been able to get him out of your head. Just open your eyes for just one fucking second and we would all be a little less miserable!”

Murtagh rolled his eyes.

“I was made for misery,” he drawled.

“Doesn’t mean you have to deliberately seek it out!” Thorn snarled. “All I’m asking for is for you to just stop being a moron and see!”

“I see just fine, Thorn,” Murtagh said coldly. “It’s you who’s blind.”

Thorn snarled angrily after him, but Murtagh simply walked back into the bedroom and locked the door. Then he closed the window and lay down.

If Thorn didn’t see how it was, then Murtagh wasn’t going to tell him. He could figure it out for himself.

**::OBSESSION::**

A nurse had escorted them to the surgery ward just minutes after Dr. Carn had left. They had been sitting there for nearly an hour already.

Saphira clutched her phone tightly. She hadn’t been able to put it away since she had called Thorn. It was a small comfort to have it there, knowing that she could instantly hear his deep voice if she called him again.

Time had passed so slowly. She had lost count of how many times she had glanced down at her wristwatch, or how for how long she had been staring at the doors that separated Eragon from them.

Brom had gone from pacing to sitting motionlessly while they had been there, though his eyes had been vacant the entire time. She had never really known how close they had been, but she knew he had always been there. When Eragon’s uncle had died, Brom had taken care of Eragon and Roran, she knew that. But by the time she had entered Eragon’s life, Brom had pulled back slightly and Roran had been the man of the house. But she could see the bond in-between them now, how close they must have been once and still were.

She looked down at the watch and bit her lip. An hour and fifteen minutes. She cupped her other hand around her cell-phone and prayed quietly.

A door swung open softly and she whipped her head up, like she had done the three times before already. She was prepared for another disappointment; that someone else were walking out of a door down the hall. Her mouth fell open when Carn walked out of the operation room in front of them dressed in a blue surgery robe.

There was a bundle in his arms.

Brom stood up in a flash. Saphira stood up more shakily. As Carn approached them, a hint of a smile entered his lips.

“Little Rider junior came to the world at 02.02 PM,” Carn said and stopped in front of them. “And he’s a perfectly healthy little boy.”

Saphira let out a choked sob.

“Would you like to hold him?”

Saphira could only nod. She hurried put her phone away and gently cradled the little boy when Carn put him into her arms. He was so small, and so perfect.

“What of Eragon?” Brom asked.

Carn sighed. Saphira looked up. She tightened her told around the baby slightly, though she was careful not to add too much pressure

“Now that the baby is out, we can begin to repair the damaged blood vessels,” Carn said and fingered with the mask under his chin. “So far so good, but we’re not out of the woods yet. I’ll keep you posted.”

“Will you have to move or remove anything in order to do so?” Brom asked gravely.

Saphira frowned. What was he asking?

“There is a slight chance we might have to remove the created womb tissue,” the doctor said sadly. “We don’t know yet. We should be able to repair the damage without having to, but if there’s no other option I’ll send a nurse out to let you know.”

Saphira watched mutely as Carn pulled up the mask and walked back into the operation room.

“But, but if they do -” Saphira stuttered.

“Then it’s unlikely that even that vampire fiend will be able to knock him up again,” Brom said tiredly.

Saphira closed her eyes and held the baby tightly against her. No harm would come to him while he was with her; she was going to make sure of it.

Brom laid a hand onto her shoulder and gently guided her to sit back down. She felt him sit down beside her, almost close enough to touch. A small tear ran down her cheek when she opened her eyes again. Brom, who had been stroking a finger gently down the baby’s cheek, let the hand fall.

“He’s so small,” Saphira muttered softly.

Brom merely hummed.

“He looks just like Eragon,” she said and let out a choked sob.

“Something Eragon will thank the heavens for when he gets out,” Brom commented, and she pretended not to hear the hoarse edge in his voice.

“That he will,” Saphira said shakily.

They sat together in silence for what seemed like hours. Saphira was too busy staring down at the small child in her arms. Her eyes would travel up and down his small form, but never leave him. Every small squirm from the baby would bring a sad smile to her face.

“Um, excuse me.”

The hydra felt her heart jolt. She looked up, knowing quite well how easily the panic was to see in her eyes.

The nurse before them smiled softly.

“Dr. Carn told me to move you to Mr. Rider’s recovery room.”

Had she been standing, Saphira would have swayed.

“Rider’s alright?” Brom asked gruffly.

“He is,” the nurse said and beckoned them to come with her. “They managed to stop the bleeding just two minutes ago.”

Saphira didn’t even try to hold in the tears that were running down her cheeks.

“Dr. Carn will be with you as soon as they finish up on him,” the nurse said and waved towards a nearby door. “This is his room. You are free to wait for him in there.”

Brom thanked her. He then pushed the door open and motioned for Saphira to walk inside. She did so, walking eagerly over to the small crib inside the room and put the baby down. Even though it was tough to set him down, she didn’t trust herself to hold him for much longer.

Brom closed the door softly. Saphira barely noticed that he walked over to her. She sank down into one of the chairs and put her head in her hands. She vaguely heard Brom start to speak, probably over the phone. She was too busy trying to hold herself together.

Eragon was fine. He and the baby were both fine.

She let out a soft relieved sob. That was all it took. A second later she was crying loudly, unable to stop or even think something else. Brom rushed over to her, asking her what was wrong. She couldn’t answer. Eragon was alive, the baby was alive; nothing else mattered.

**::OBSESSION::**

The second his phone rang, he jumped it and put it to his ear.

“What’s going on?”

Saphira laughed over the line. She sounded like she had been crying.

_“They’re fine. Oh Thorn, they’re both fine!”_

Thorn breathed out in relief. He sank down onto the couch, his other hand coming up to support his forehead.

“And what gender?” he asked hoarsely.

 _“A boy,”_ Saphira said and laughed hoarsely. _“A beautiful little baby boy.”_

“Hm. I have to say that even **he** would have been proud to hear that,” Thorn said softly.

 _“Too bad he won’t,”_ she murmured quietly.

“Not until later, at least,” Thorn drawled. “And he has no one to thank but himself.”

_“Is it safe to talk so freely about it?”_

“He’s sleeping. I checked, but I’ll be talking a bit in code just in case,” he said in an assuring tone.

 _“Asleep? At this time of the day?”_ she sounded like she was frowning.

“As long as he isn’t running, I’m not going to complain,” he drawled. “Is _he_ awake yet?”

 _“No, not yet, but the doctor says he’ll wake up any minute,”_ Saphira said and sighed. _“I’m just so, so relieved.”_

“Well, I can understand -”

 _“The doctor said he had been close to cutting out Eragon’s womb tissue,”_ Saphira interrupted.

“Huh?” Thorn frowned. “But doesn’t that mean that he -”

 _“Would have been unable to conceive again,”_ she sighed again. _“He had me worried sick.”_

“I can imagine,” Thorn rubbed his forehead. “But the doc didn’t do it?”

 _“No, thank heavens,”_ Saphira said softly.

“Yeah,” Thorn sighed. “Damn, this had been one helluva day.”

 _“I agree,”_ Saphira half-sobbed.

“Call me when the name has been decided,” Thorn said softly.

 _“I will. And Thorn...good luck,”_ she whispered.

Thorn opened his mouth to speak, but shut it just as quickly. It had been almost inaudible, but he had heard it. Murtagh was awake and starting to move around.

“Thank you,” he said quietly.

Thorn hung up the same second Murtagh walked out of the bedroom. He tried to school his face into a blank mask, but a quirked eyebrow let him know he hadn’t succeeded. He just wondered what emotions Murtagh could see.

“Well? Not going to share the news with me?” Murtagh drawled.

Thorn opened his mouth, ready to say something nasty, but paused. He had a golden opportunity here. He knew Murtagh hadn’t heard anything of the conversation; he could say anything and Murtagh would have to believe it. He could find out just what Murtagh had been mulling over for so long.

He had four options; he could say that the baby died, that Eragon had died, that they both had died or he could tell the truth.

“Seriously?” Murtagh crocked an eyebrow, but there was something wrong with his face. “You’re not going to tell me?”

One of the choices was just begging to be uttered. Thorn knew the chance Murtagh of changing his views completely were very small, the chance of him acknowledge Eragon as a possible mate were even smaller, but something made Thorn hope. Something was changing inside Murtagh; the hydra just didn’t know what that was. Thorn just had to find out what would happen if he said the sentence his mind begged to utter. Maybe, just maybe then Murtagh would be able to understand what had been going on all along.

“The baby made it,” Thorn said quietly.

Murtagh rolled his eyes. That was clearly not what interested him. Thorn let his shoulders stiffen and made sure his voice came out slightly raspy when he spoke next.

“Eragon...” Thorn paused. “Eragon didn’t.”

He stared at Murtagh. There was no change; he didn’t even blink.

“He had internal bleeding. The doctors were unable to stop it before he bled out,” Thorn said hoarsely and looked down.

Silence. Thorn didn’t dare to look at Murtagh, afraid that would ruin the act. He waited.

“You’re lying,” Murtagh said coldly.

Thorn didn’t have to force himself to look angry; being around Murtagh these days was enough to set him off.

“Do you think I would joke about that, you sick fuck?!” he snarled. “Do you have any idea, any idea of how horrible I feel right now? Saphira’s in Carvahall, crying her heart out and I’m not there to comfort her!”

He was lying through his teeth, but he didn’t care. Any reaction would be enough, if Murtagh would just react already!

Murtagh looked away at last. Thorn watched them bleed into an extremely reddened black-red colour.

“He -” Murtagh’s voice trailed off. “He wasn’t supposed to die like that.”

“Then how?!” Thorn growled.

Murtagh turned his head back around to stare unblinkingly at him. Suddenly Thorn wondered if he had made the wrong decision. The vampire was even starting to shake.

“He was supposed to die when I killed him,” Murtagh said darkly. “By my hand, not because his moronic mate forgot to wear rubber.”

Thorn had to agree there. If Murtagh hadn’t forgotten to wear a condom just that one time, then Eragon wouldn’t have nearly died.

“Not everything in this damn world revolves around you!” Thorn exclaimed. “Fuck you!”

“It does when it concerns him,” Murtagh snarled.

“Why?” Thorn hissed. “Give me one good reason why.”

Murtagh’s eyes glimmered dangerously. Thorn held back a gulp, though he was sure Murtagh was very aware of his elevated heart rate.

“Because, Thorn...” Murtagh growled as he started to approach him. “Eragon is mine. _Mine_. I bloody well saw him first!”

Thorn’s eyes widened. Was Murtagh saying what he thought he was saying? Had Thorn really been that blind to have missed the change in Murtagh, even if it must have happened right before his eyes?

“How can you be so sure?” Thorn said while making sure to keep the angry look on his face as Murtagh came closer. “Remember the time you first saw him? I remember a certain chimera being a part of the group he came with.”

Murtagh snarled out loud. Thorn drew himself to his full height as Murtagh stopped before him.

“He’s mine, do you hear me? MINE!”

“No one can be yours unless they’re your mate,” Thorn said, forcing himself not to hold his breath as he waited for Murtagh’s answer.

The vampire flinched, though the look in his eyes was as mad as ever.

“Oh really?” Murtagh asked quietly, danger rolling off of every word.

“Yes, really,” Thorn drawled nastily. “But I guess it doesn’t matter anymore. He’s dead. Let him go.”

“No,” Murtagh laughed bitterly. “Never.”

“Why do you refuse to leave him alone, even now that he’s fucking gone?!?”

Thorn wanted to hear him say it. He didn’t care what he needed to do to make Murtagh say it; he was going to.

Murtagh grabbed a hold of his shirt and pulled him down to his level. Thorn had to gulp when he saw the crazy smirk on Murtagh’s face.

“Did you know that elves can choose whoever they wish as their mate?” Murtagh tilted his head. “Vampires and werewolves are the only ones that really don’t have a choice. Sure, you as a hydra or dragon would know who is better suited for you, but otherwise you have no pull to be with a certain someone.”

“What are you talking about?” Thorn hissed.

“I’m talking about the fact that I have no fucking choice but to do what I’m about to do,” Murtagh said murderously.

Thorn knew he had only one second to act as Murtagh let go. One second or it would be too late.

“So you admit it?”

Murtagh froze. He stared at Thorn for a long time.

“You’re mated,” Thorn said. “And you know to whom.”

“No,” Murtagh said nastily. “But that chimera killed something of mine; it’s only fair that I kill something of his.”

Thorn grabbed hold of Murtagh’s shoulders and shook him.

“When are you going to wake up and smell the fucking reality?!” he hissed angrily. “There’s a reason you’re so obsessed with Eragon, and it’s not because you think you fucked him first.”

“Is that what this is all about?” Murtagh asked quietly. “Is that why you’ve been bitching about mating and settling down? You think that Eragon’s my...”

Thorn wasn’t surprised that Murtagh couldn’t finish the sentence. He tightened his grip on Murtagh’s shoulders and waited.

“You’re fucking mad,” Murtagh spat.

“No, I’m not. And you know it,” Thorn said firmly. “If you’d stop denying this, you’d notice how much he’s affected you! Can’t you see it?!”

Murtagh started to shake his head.

“I’m right, you know I am. I’m sick and tired of avoiding this issue. You’re mated to him!”

“No.”

“You’ve been drinking Eragon’s blood all this time and despite what you said about his blood-type, you haven’t gotten sick! You said yourself that the blood Durza presented to you smelled off! What more proof do you need?!” Thorn exclaimed.

“I don’t need any, because you’re wrong,” Murtagh snarled. “Don’t you think I’d know it if I was mated?”

“You’re the fucking world champion of denial! You’re the kind of guy that wouldn’t admit that you were vampire even if you had large fangs, drank blood, slept in a coffin, turned into a bat at will and left corpses at every street corner!” Thorn roared. “So no, excuse me if I don’t think so!”

Murtagh just sneered.

_-Fine, if this is what it takes to make you listen, then fine!-_

Murtagh stepped back as if slapped.

“Get the fuck out of my head!!”

 _-No. I’m sick and tired of you avoiding the truth and living in your cosy little world of denial,-_ Thorn said darkly. _-You’re mated to Eragon. That’s why you’re obsessing about him, why you attacked the chimera, and why you’re ready to murder the chimera after hearing that Eragon’s dead.-_

Murtagh was slowly backing away from him. Thorn hoped he had been able to hear the sincerity in his voice. Thorn knew he was right; he just wished Murtagh could be able to see that too. And that Murtagh had been able to ignore the slight hitch in his voice at his lie.

_-You are. You’ve basically admitted it to me already, Freudian slip or no. Why don’t you just fucking say it and get it over with?!-_

“Why are you doing this to me?” the vampire hissed.

 _-I’m doing this for your own damn good,-_ Thorn growled. _–I just want you to move on, leave that fucking denial behind and start living for once!-_

“FUCK YOU!” Murtagh roared. “What good does it do to admit it, huh?! HE’S DEAD!”

“But you know you are?” Thorn said sternly.

“I don’t have to answer to you,” the other snarled.

“Murtagh,” Thorn hissed.

The vampire shook his head, his eyes wild and glimmering with an emotion Thorn couldn’t recognize.

“I do not answer to you,” Murtagh sneered. “Never have, never will.”

Thorn didn’t even have time to open his mouth before Murtagh shot out through the door. He didn’t even have time to think before he set off after him.

**::OBSESSION::**

Eragon woke up slowly. He felt groggy and something was hurting. It was difficult to think, let alone remember. Everything seemed to be stuck inside one big hazy bubble, and no matter how hard he tried, he couldn’t get out of it.

He felt a hand brush softly through his hair. Then the pain was gone and he fell into the darkness again.

The second time he woke up everything was much clearer. He could identify and locate the pain. His stomach was hurting; it felt like needles were pricking into him over and over again. Why was it hurting? The last thing he could remember was...

Eragon’s eyes shot open. He couldn’t sit up, it hurt enough to even breathe, but his hands sought out his stomach. His now thinner stomach.

“Eragon, don’t panic.”

Easy for them to say! He may not have gotten used to his round stomach, to being pregnant, but his child was gone! Where was it?!

Saphira entered his line of vision then. He was able to register the tiredness on her face. He wondered how much time had gone by since the surgery.

His eyes widened. That was right, he remember now. Dr. Carn had examined him and had promptly told him they had to operate, or he and the child would die. Eragon had agreed without a moment of hesitation. He refused to die, and he very well refused to let the child within him die. But where was his child??

“Saphira?” he croaked.

She smiled softly.

“I’m here. Brom’s here too. Aksel, Arya and Nasuada are out getting something to eat. Not a lot of time has passed, but apparently you get really hungry when you’re worrying,” she said with a half-smile.

“Where’s my kid?” he asked breathlessly.

Saphira’s smile widened. She gestured over to his other side. Eragon turned his head and saw Brom standing beside his bed, a small bundle held half-awkwardly in his arms. Eragon couldn’t breathe.

“Breathe, honey,” Saphira laughed. “He’s fine, your son is fine.”

“I...I have a son?” Eragon muttered in disbelief.

Brom grunted. Saphira helped him sit up, making sure that he didn’t rip open any stitches as he did so. Then Brom held out what Eragon could only presume to be his child.

Saphira laughed softly. She lifted his arms and moved them until they were in the right position. Then she made sure his arms were steady as Brom lowered the slightly squirming bundle into his arms.

Eragon felt his heart jolt. There was a small blue cap on the small head, proclaiming that it was indeed a boy. He could only see two oh-so small hands that had obviously fought their way out of the bundle and a pink face. The small mouth opened slightly to yawn before closing again. The eyes were closed and the small nose wrinkled slightly as the boy shifted in Eragon’s arms.

He wanted to cry. He couldn’t believe that only eight months ago, he was freaking out about everything that was happening, and now he had a child in his arms. His child, his _son_. He had been so worried when they had rolled him into surgery, but now it all suddenly seemed worth it.

“He’s beautiful,” Eragon stuttered.

Saphira let out a watery laugh.

“Do you know what you’re going to name him?” Brom said in a very strange tone.

Eragon looked up at him. If he didn’t know any better, he would have thought that Brom looked about to cry.

“No,” Eragon muttered and blinked. “I have no idea.”

“You’ll come up with something,” Saphira said softly.

“Yeah.”

But at that time it didn’t matter. For the moment, he was content staring down at his son’s face.

**::OBSESSION::**

If there was one thing Murtagh knew, then it was himself. He knew himself inside and out. It therefore was very unsettling when he didn’t recognize the emotion that was taking over his mind.

So Eragon was dead, hm? It was a very strange and disturbing thought, a thought that seemed wrong all on its own. But what was more disturbing was the fact that he was running and didn’t care what Thorn would do to him once he caught him. Because of course Thorn was going to catch him. He was just running for the hell of it; to get away from Thorn’s insane questioning. The redhead also knew the island better than him, without a doubt. The chances of getting away were very slim.

His instincts were pulling him towards the eastern coast, where he knew there was a cluster of small villages. They didn’t exist on any maps; people just knew they were there. But the second he had stepped outside of the door he had taken a sharp right. He was not going to the coast, and that was that. He was not stupid; he knew what would happen if he did.

The forest around him was thinning and he was starting to run uphill. Murtagh smirked. Soon it would just be rock under his feet and a few good kilometres until he hit the crater where he would be able to see Doru Areba. From the angle he was coming at, Murtagh guessed that the house lay on the northern part of the island. But since he had no intention of hitting the crater, he took another right.

As the ground turned to rock, Murtagh was able to hear Thorn run behind him. For a second he wondered what it would take for Thorn to turn into his dragon form. He could barely remember the dragon he had seen as a pre-teen, and for a second he wished to see it again.

Murtagh let his feet take him to one of the five almost tentacle like ends on the island. Thorn had found him there once before, but it didn’t matter. This time their meeting wouldn’t end the same way.

Murtagh slid to a halt at the very tip of the cliff. Thorn couldn’t be more than half a minute behind him. He spread his arms and took a deep breath.

He heard the snarl in Thorn’s voice before his mind registered what Thorn was actually saying.

“What the fuck do you think you’re doing?!”

“Enjoying the salty air,” Murtagh said simply.

“You cannot run from this,” Thorn hissed. “I want you to admit it!”

“At least you’ve stopped beating around the bush.”

Thorn fell silent. Murtagh lowered his arms and turned around. Thorn looked very shocked and a little uncomfortable. Murtagh enjoyed the sight.

“It may have taken me a while, but I see it now. But what good does it do to answer you?” he tilted his head. “He’s dead.”

“You’d be more at peace with yourself,” the hydra said softly.

“Bullshit. It’s to calm your mind, not mine,” Murtagh snorted.

“And we all know how much you love to live in denial,” Thorn drawled.

“No, I am at peace,” Murtagh said and smirked flippantly. “I know exactly what lies ahead, and I’ve come to accept it.”  
  
“I don’t...Murtagh?”

Thorn’s confused look hurt a bit, but Murtagh pushed it away. Odd; he wasn’t used to feeling hurt, and he supposed he never would. He took a tiny step back.

“What are you doing?” Thorn asked seriously.

“I figured a dip would cool me off. Running gets me all sweaty,” he smirked.

“Murtagh; that fall would severely hurt you!” Thorn hissed.

“Mhm. Too bad it won’t kill me.”

“You’re mad!!” the hydra exclaimed.

“Never claimed I wasn’t,” Murtagh said calmly.

Thorn took a step towards him; Murtagh answered by taking another small step back. Thorn stopped.

“Tag, don’t do this.”

“Sometimes there’s nothing like a good cold shower to clear your head,” the vampire chuckled.

Thorn’s scream was swallowed by the wind as he leaned back and let himself fall.

**::OBSESSION::**

“He’s adorable,” Arya said softly.

Beside her, Nasuada smiled. Aksel was too busy staring at the little boy in disbelief to have said anything yet.

“What are you going to name him?” Nasuada asked.

Eragon shrugged softly. He hadn’t been able to think about it yet. He had tried to think of a name, but then mind would focus on the little boy in his arms and he would forget everything else.

It was just so surreal. Even if the baby was only two weeks early, it all seemed unreal.

“He’s a unique child,” Saphira said with a fond smile. “He deserves a unique name.”

“Way to make it easier for me, Saph,” Eragon said dryly.

“I think she’s right,” Brom commented.

Eragon looked over at him. The minute Arya, Nasuada and Aksel had arrived; Brom had seated himself in one of the visitor chairs in the corner of the room. The others had immediately flocked around him, though Saphira had moved a bit to let Eragon see the older man more clearly.

“What do you think of when you look at him?” Nasuada asked. “It’s not that uncommon for people to look to _Andelan_ when they want to name their child.”

“I was so afraid, you know,” Eragon said very quietly. “That our child would look like him.”

“He doesn’t,” Arya said kindly. “He looks just like you.”

“For now. What happens when he grows up? Who knows who he’ll look like then?”

“That’s something to worry about later,” Saphira said and gripped his shoulder gently.

“I don’t think he looks like either one of ya. I think he just looks like a pink little...mini-person,” Aksel said bluntly.

Eragon snorted. Aksel yelped when Arya punched him.

“But, it’s true!”

While the siblings continued to bicker, Eragon allowed his gaze to fall down on his son. His **son**. It still felt odd to think it, much less say it.

“Eragon, what do you see?” the hydra whispered softly.

“I see hope, a fresh start, innocence...” he smiled a little bitterly. “I didn’t think I would be able to. I thought...”

“You thought he would remind you too much of his father?” Saphira sighed.

“Yeah. But he doesn’t,” Eragon muttered in disbelief. “He actually doesn’t. I mean, he does remind me a bit of him, but...but its okay.”

“Because you don’t want to forget.”

Eragon looked up at her and smiled.

“And what are you two whispering about?” Aksel pouted while he rubbed his abused right arm.

Nasuada smiled mysteriously. Eragon figured she had been listening in on their conversation.

“Name suggestions,” the brunet replied.

“And?” Arya asked eagerly.

Eragon lowered his gaze again. His son slept peacefully, totally unaware of the chaos that most likely lay ahead of them both. He truly looked innocent, so innocent he was wondering if he had done the right thing by bringing the child into this world.

Innocent...yes, that was what he was.

“Ren,” Eragon murmured softly. “Ren Rider.”

“What makes you chose that name?” Brom asked .

“He looks so innocent,” the brunet said almost trance-like. “ _Rien_ means pure, I think. I thought it would fit. I just changed the word a bit.”

The girls started to gush around him and Aksel laughed softly. But Eragon was too busy staring at little Ren to care.

**::OBSESSION::**

Thorn stared down at where his friend had jumped in horror. He didn’t know how far it was down to the water, but a human would most likely get knocked out upon impact and drown.

He stared to no avail. Murtagh didn’t show up. He had seen him hit the water, but it had already been five minutes and he wasn’t coming back up. Thorn cursed.

He stepped away from the edge and tired to make sense of the last hour or so. Had Murtagh said what he thought he had said? Had Murtagh admitted defeat and realised that he was mated? Had Thorn actually succeeded in opening Murtagh’s mind?

Thorn would have laughed, but he realised the seriousness of the situation. He needed to find Murtagh quickly. Because even if he had taken away the vampire’s cloud of denial, one thing remained; making Murtagh see that it wasn’t a bad thing. That and making sure Murtagh didn’t kill him when he announced that Eragon wasn’t dead after all. Because until Thorn convinced Murtagh it was okay and that Eragon was alright, the vampire would set off on a killing spree with only two targets in mind.

The chimera and Eragon’s child.

Of course, if he convinced Murtagh that Eragon wasn’t dead, then Murtagh would have two new targets; his mate and their child.

The hydra rubbed his temples tiredly. Even if they were on the wrong side of the island, if Murtagh was irritated enough...Thorn winced. He stepped forward again and activated his sight. Then he started to search the beach below and the waves.

Nothing, nothing for miles. But wait! There, a small spot of red.  Thorn had found him. But Murtagh was too far away to reach, mentally or otherwise. The vampire just appeared to be floating.

Thorn’s cell rang. He jumped, but didn’t take his eyes off his rider.

“Yeah?”

_“Thorn, what’s wrong?”_

Thorn frowned. Had he sounded that troubled.

“Murtagh dove off a cliff,” he replied calmly.

 _“He did what?!”_ Saphira spluttered.

Thorn repeated himself.

 _“But why?”_ she gasped.

“I got through him, Saph,” he laughed breathlessly. “I think I actually got through to him.”

 _“You got through to him?”_ she whispered.

“Yeah. He completely refused to answer me when I asked him straight out, but he didn’t deny it.”

 _“Thorn, exactly what happened?”_ Saphira breathed.

Thorn kept an eye on Murtagh as he told her what had happened. The vampire had gotten closer to the shore now.

_“You told him Eragon was dead?!”_

“Yeah,” Thorn tilted his head. “And he reacted. He actually reacted, Saph. I think he’s starting to get it.”

 _“What are you going to do now?”_ she murmured.

“First I need to make sure the fall didn’t kill him,” he said dryly. “Then I need to make sure that I can save what little sanity he has left.”

 _“Maybe you shouldn’t have lied about Eragon being dead?”_ she said, and he could hear the frown in her voice.

“But that’s what got him to react!” he exclaimed. “He finally reacted. He actually said that Eragon was his!”

 _“...”_   Saphira fell silent. _“He said that?”_

“Of course, he claimed he was talking about Eragon’s life, but I could see different. Whatever feelings that were dormant in him are waking up. This is a good thing!”

 _“If you can calm him down,”_ she commented.

“Yeah,” Thorn sighed. “Damn psycho bastard.”

Saphira laughed softly.

_“If anyone can get through to him, it’s you.”_

“Thank you for the support,” he sighed. “I’ll need it.”

He wished he could see the smile he knew she was wearing at that moment.

 _“Hey, Eragon finally named him,”_ Saphira said suddenly, and Thorn finally understood why she had called in the first place.

“Yeah?” he said eagerly.

 _“Yes. Ren Liam Rider,”_ she replied. _“He came up with the middle name just a few minutes ago.”_

“Liam, huh? Do you know why?”

 _“I had expected that question to the ‘Ren’ part,”_ she laughed. _“I’m not sure.”_

“It’s a nice name,” he said and meant it.

_“It fits him. He’s so adorable.”_

Thorn grinned.

“Should I be worried?” he joked.

 _“Hmm, maybe,”_ she said teasingly.

Thorn laughed and looked down on the beach again. He jolted when he realised that Murtagh had washed ashore and it didn’t look like he was moving.

“I have to go. I think my rider needs me,” he said softly.

 _“Good luck, Thorn. I miss you,”_ she sighed mournfully.

“I miss you too.”

Thorn hung up with a heavy heart. Then he began to look for the quickest route down to the beach.

**::OBSESSION::**

The night was falling, but Eragon couldn’t sleep. He had spent most of the night staring at his sleeping son. He knew he should be sleeping when Ren was sleeping, but he wasn’t even tired. His mind just wouldn’t shut up.

Just before she had left, Saphira had been awfully quiet. He wondered what could have happened. Most likely something was up with _him_ , because if it had been Thorn, Saphira would have been much more distressed.

Eragon looked away from Ren and glanced down at the paper in his hands. He was supposed to hand it in tomorrow morning, but there was still something that he struggled with. He held it up and read it over again.

 **_Child’s Name:_ ** _Ren Liam Rider_

 **_Date of Birth:_ ** _January 4 th_

 **_Sex:_ ** _Male_

 **_Species:_ ** _Human_

 **_Place of Birth:_ ** _Carvahall, Alagaësia_

**_Date Filed:_ **

**_Mother’s Maiden Name:_ ** _Eragon B. Rider_

**_Father’s Name:_ **

**_Date Issued:_ ** _January 4 th_

 **_Doctor’s Signature:_ ** _Dr. Carn Tirem_

**_Parents’ Signatures:_ **

He was still unsure whether or not he was to put in Murtagh’s name. Hell, he didn’t even know what Murtagh’s last name was!

Eragon bit his lip. He twirled the pen around as he thought. He sighed and brought the pen to the paper. The tip stopped an inch away from the surface.

“I can’t do it,” he whispered.

He clenched his eyes shut before pressing the pen to the paper and scribbled something down hurriedly. He capped the pen and put both items down on the table beside him. He sighed and buried his head in his hands.

He walked over to the bed and lied down, but the certificate stayed with him. He could see it before his eyes.

 **_Parents’ Signatures:_ ** _Eragon Rider_

And further up...

**_Father’s Name:_ **

He hid himself under the covers and tried not to scream.


	12. Deep Inside

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I want to thank everyone for their continued support. :) You guys are amazing.
> 
> Eragon has a lot of tough decisions to make in this chapter, and not all of them are settled right away. Beware of bumpy roads ahead.
> 
>  _ **Word**_ – word written in my language Andelan
> 
>  _-Speech.-_ Eragon/Saphira, Murtagh/Thorn and Thorn/Saphira talking to each other mentally.

_::January to February::_

Eragon looked at the new form in front of him. He traced his name over and over. There it was, his full name, specie, other information he assumed were important and the fact that he was a mother. Further down the form was almost blank.

**_Father’s Name:_ **

**_Date of Birth:_ **

**_Place of Birth:_ ** _Urû’baen, Alagaësia_

 **_Species:_ ** _Vampire_

**_Father’s and Mother’s Relationship:_ **

The brunet forced himself to look away.

“Are you sure about this?” Dr. Carn asked softly.

Eragon looked up. Carn was holding up the form he had filled out last night. He nodded softly. He had thought about it before he had gone to sleep and when he had woken up. He was sure.

“Yeah,” he repeated out loud. “Besides, I only know his first name. What good would that do, right?”

Carn nodded solemnly.

“And you’re sure about this part right here?” he asked and pointed a little higher on the form.

Eragon bit his lip.

“Yeah,” he sighed. “Or do you want me to write half-vampire? If what Brom told me is right, it won’t matter. It’s not like it’ll show.”

The doctor nodded again. He pressed a seal to the paper and scribbled something else on it.

“Alright, then we’re good to go,” he smiled. “You can pick up a copy of the certificate later today or tomorrow.”

Eragon thanked him softly and left the office. Saphira greeted him eagerly as he stepped out. Eragon just smiled. His eyes were locked on Brom and Dr. Carn. They looked to be in a semi-serious discussion.

“Eragon?”

He shook his head.

“Would you like to take over or not?” Saphira crocked an eyebrow.

Eragon smiled. He positioned his arms as Saphira gently passed him over. Eragon felt his smile soften as he cradled his son gently. Ren’s eyes were closed, though his little mouth was moving slightly.

Brom joined them then. He placed a hand on Eragon’s shoulder and guided them out of the hospital.

Eragon hesitated by the doors. He looked back and found Dr. Carn with his eyes.

“Dr. Carn?” he called out.

The man looked up and nodded to show he had heard him.

“Can...I can change it whenever, right?” Eragon asked.

Carn smiled.

“If you want to, just stop by my office and we’ll have it arranged.”

Eragon smiled hesitantly and walked out of the hospital.

**::OBSESSION::**

Thorn looked at the mess in front of him. He had found Murtagh unconscious the night before, and the vampire hadn’t shown any signs of waking up. Somehow he had gotten his shoulder dislocated, a few scratches here and there and a large cut in his calf. Of course, the scratches had healed by now and the cut was thinning to the point where it almost looked like a scar. Thorn had been forced to put the shoulder back in position, though Murtagh had just groaned from the pain. He was completely knocked out.

Thorn had watched over him the entire night. Something was not right. He feared for his rider’s health.

The hydra stared down at the phone in his hand. He had almost called Saphira a dozen times, but had put it away before he could hit the call-button. He sighed.

It seemed that Saphira didn’t have any trouble calling him, however. Thorn put the phone to his ear.

“How are things?”

 _“Eragon just got home from the hospital,”_ Saphira replied softly. _“He was a little hesitant with the forms, but he seems alright.”_

“Seems. Right,” Thorn sighed. “What forms were those?”

As he spoke, he kept his voice soft and his eyes never moved from his rider’s form. He needed to know the second Murtagh woke up.

_“Ren’s forms.”_

Thorn stiffened. The kid?

“Ah...” he paused. “He wasn’t sure whether or not to put the father’s name down?”

Saphira hummed in reply.

“He ended up not doing it?” Thorn asked quietly.

 _“No,_ ” Saphira said sadly. _“He just wrote down Murtagh’s specie and place of birth.”_

“He knows that?!” Thorn blinked.

 _“Brom knew,”_ she said sheepishly. _“Apparently Brom had a little run-in with Murtagh and his dad when he was younger.”_

“Tag might have mentioned that,” he mused.

 _“Mhm,”_ Saphira hummed tiredly. _“How is he, anyway?”_

Thorn paused. He pursed his lips and sighed.

“I found him late last night. He fell unconscious somehow. I’ve contacted Vanir just in case. He just appears to be sleeping, but...” he winced. “I’m starting to wonder if I did the right thing yesterday.”

_“Thorn, you got him to react! You’ve been waiting eight months for that to happen!”_

“Yeah, and now he’s not reacting at all,” he drawled.

 _“He’ll wake up,”_ Saphira said confidently. _“He has to.”_

Thorn agreed, but only because he ached to smack Murtagh around.

 _“He wasn’t...he wasn’t trying to kill himself, was he?”_ she whispered almost frightened.

“There are better and more effective ways of doing that and I don’t doubt that he knows them all,” he sighed. “So I’d like to think that he wasn’t.”

Thorn perked up suddenly. His gaze had moved away from Murtagh without him noticing it. He eagerly looked back at the vampire, but he remained as still and unmoving as he had done for the past few hours. Thorn frowned and turned his head around.

Thankfully it was only Vanir. The magician nodded before walking over to Murtagh and started his check-up.

_“Thorn? Thorn?!”_

“Ah, I’m sorry, Saph. I got distracted,” he said sheepishly. “Vanir just arrived.”

 _“I see,”_ she let out a relieved breath. _“You had me worried there.”_

He smiled softly.

 _“I can tell you’re busy, so...call me back?”_ she asked softly.

“Yeah,” he breathed. “Miss you.”

_“I miss you too.”_

He hung up and looked back at Vanir. The magician was holding his glowing hand over Murtagh’s forehead.

“Well?”

Vanir grunted.

“This guy is almost more trouble than he’s worth,” he drawled. “Mating without meaning to, going on a near rampage, getting himself captured by vampires, actually going on a rampage, and while still being in denial he dives off a cliff?”

Thorn smiled sadly.

“That’s Murtagh for you. Though, I’m not sure about the denial part anymore.”

Vanir looked up sharply. He pulled his hand to himself and straightened.

“Are you saying what I think you’re saying?” the magician asked suspiciously.

“I took a huge chance last night,” Thorn laughed almost hysterically. “I lied and told him Eragon was dead. He went nuts. First he was murderous, then he was in full denial, and then he turned pseudo-suicidal on me.”

Vanir blinked. He crossed his arms and frowned.

“I never expected you to take such a huge risk,” Vanir said. “But Eragon isn’t in fact dead?”

“Nope,” Thorn shook his head. “He and the kid are fine. There were some complications and internal bleeding, but they both made it out just fine. I wanted to see how Murtagh would react if I told him that Eragon had passed away.”

“Obviously he didn’t take the news too well,” Vanir drawled.

“No, but I think I got through to him. I think he’s beginning to understand, Vanir!” Thorn exclaimed.

“Well, it would certainly explain his mental state,” the dark haired man shrugged.

“What state?” the hydra frowned.

“Murtagh’s currently asleep, though his brainwaves are very alike to those in a coma. It may come from the fall or from when he hit the water...” Vanir crocked an eyebrow. “Or it comes from the fact that he now has some very disturbing news he’d like to process in private. What’s more private than inside your own head?”

“So, he’s in a coma?”

“No,” Vanir sighed. “But I can’t say for sure when he’ll get out of the...shock or whatever. It could be a day, it could be two. No more than four, I reckon.”

“He’s been out for almost twelve hours already,” Thorn told him.

“Then you can start waiting for him to wake up in twelve hours,” the blue eyed man replied. “It’s my best estimate. And when he does wake up, I suggest telling him that his only life source is still alive.”

Thorn snorted. He wasn’t stupid; of course he was going to tell Murtagh.

“How are you coping with all of this?” Vanir asked suddenly.

“With all of what?” Thorn blinked.

“Eragon giving birth and Murtagh going around the bend on the same day.”

“Alright, I think,” the redhead muttered.

Vanir snorted. Thorn sent him a tired and annoyed look.

“You’re allowed to be a little freaked out. There are few vampires that display suicidal tendencies,” he said dryly.

“Murtagh’s not suicidal,” Thorn said with narrowed eyes.

“Well, he doesn’t exactly love life either,” Vanir gave a one-armed shrug.

“If Murtagh knew what was best for him, he wouldn’t be half as miserable as he is now.”

“But it’s in his blood,” Vanir said sombrely. “It’s in his blood to hate this connection that has been forced on him. He’s so against the whole ordeal he’s forced down his will, biological and mental, to procreate. That’s not something one does easily.”

“I know that,” Thorn snapped. “He hated his father so much he’s begun to hate himself; because he sees his father in himself. And because of that, he doesn’t want to carry on his ‘so called’ fucked up genes.”

Vanir nodded.

“That’s why it has taken you so long to get him to see that he’s mated. Mated to him means the ability to have kids, a thought he forced out of his head ages ago,” he sighed. “It doesn’t matter that a child in a mated bond won’t be a vampire, he’ll still worry. Violence doesn’t just come from your specie.”

Thorn frowned. What was Vanir saying?

“Murtagh comes from a long line of unmated vampires. His blood is one of the ‘purest’ in vampire existence,” Vanir said with a small scowl on his lips. “While he may not care about ending that bloodline, there are vampires out there that will. But that’s an entirely different issue.”

Thorn cursed. Vanir was right. Getting Murtagh to open up to the bond was a two-edged blade. If Murtagh somehow got used to the idea of having a kid and being mated, then soon enough he would become protective and possessive. If the coven found out about his mated state, they would be out for blood. Literally. If he didn’t, then blood would be shed anyway; the only question was whose. Eragon’s and his kid, or Murtagh’s?

“You should be prepared to not see Saphira for at least a year,” the magician said sadly. “It took you over eight months to get to this point. How long will it take to get Murtagh to change his entire belief system?”

The hydra closed his eyes.

“Dammit. Why are you always so fucking right?” Thorn asked hoarsely.

“...I don’t know,” Vanir said uncharacteristically softly. “I wish I wasn’t at this point, but I am.”

Thorn knew that, and he hated it.

 **::OBSESSION::**  

Eragon startled awake. He blinked blearily and tried to make sense of what was going on. What had woken him?

Soft cries echoed from the other end of the room. Eragon rubbed a hand over his eyes and sighed. Ren. Of course. He got out of bed and padded over to his son’s crib. Eragon leaned down and cradled Ren gently while he started to swing him gently from side to side.

Eragon had been home for only two days so far and Ren had started screaming multiple times last night and one time that night already. Eragon wasn’t sure why, but Ren seemed distressed. They had taken him to Dr. Carn, but Carn hadn’t found anything wrong with him. So Eragon was forced to deal with his son when he woke up.

The brunet sat down on his bed and shushed his son softly. He had had a very strange dream, but he couldn’t remember what it had been about. He focused his gaze on his son and smiled softly.

“Why are you crying, huh?” he whispered.

Ren didn’t answer; only continued to scream. Eragon sighed and got up to check the usual causes of distress.

A half hour later Eragon wanted to scream. The diaper was clean, Ren wasn’t hungry, he didn’t need to be burped and no amount of shushing and rocking worked. He was just happy no one had come to ask what the racket was about.

Eragon sat down and continued to rock Ren gently.

“What’s wrong, Ren? Why are you crying? Or are you doing this just to spite your...” he paused.

Well, what would he call himself? Father? No, that was **his** title. Dad? Well, it was better than mom he supposed; even if that title too belonged to a certain vampire.

“These are the times I wish I had someone to nag at,” Eragon said deadpanned. “But no, I had to get mated to a good-for-nothing vampire.”

He looked down at Ren. He freed one of his hands and stroked the small cheek softly.

“Consider yourself lucky you don’t look like your father,” Eragon said dryly. “You may have been gorgeous then, but...”

Eragon blinked. Ren’s eyes were open and his screaming had turned to soft distressed mutterings.

“What? What did I do?” Eragon muttered. “I just mentioned...”

He wanted to slap himself. That was a silly thought. Ren couldn’t have stopped screaming just because he was missing his father, could he? Ren had never met him!

“Alright, don’t scare me like that, okay?” the brunet said softly. “For a minute I thought you were missing your father! That would be the day, huh?”

But Ren had fallen completely silent.

“...” Eragon swallowed. “Either you like to hear my voice because it calms you down, or - well, of course that’s it! You can’t understand what I’m saying yet.”

Eragon let out a relieved breath.

“Because, you know, I’d rather not talk about your father. He’s a right - he’s irritating. Yeah, that’s the word; _irritating_.

Eragon wanted to slap himself for nearly cursing. Ren was not even a week old, and he was going to start cursing around him already?!

“See? Your father only gets me into trouble,” Eragon nodded. “He’s not even here and he’s causing me trouble. And distress. I only have to think about him to get distressed.”

Ren started to squirm and let out a soft cry. The brunet winced and made a mental note not to make his voice sound distressed. Obviously Ren could tell when he was calm and when he wasn’t.

“Oh, it’s alright, Ren,” he murmured softly. “I’m alright. I’m going to stop talking about your father now. You can hear about him when you get older.”

Eragon forced the thought away as he uttered the words. The thought of Ren never getting got know his father was a disturbing one. Could he really do that to his son? ...To Murtagh? He winced.

Damn confusing world.

**::OBSESSION::**

Murtagh woke up slowly. He made sure his eyes were closed and that he wasn’t moving. He didn’t want to alert Thorn that he was awake. Ever since he had woken up the day before, Thorn had been very edgy around him. Something had obviously happened, seeing as Vanir had been there when he had woken up. Vanir simply scanned him, talked quietly to Thorn before addressing Murtagh himself briefly. Then he left as quickly as he had come. It couldn’t have taken more than an hour. Murtagh was of course glad to see the magician gone, but now that it was only him and Thorn in the house, the tension was all too clear.

The vampire forced himself not to stiffen when Thorn’s bed squeaked. He listened to Thorn get up and walk out of the room. For some reason, he had a feeling Thorn knew he was awake.

Murtagh opened his eyes. They hadn’t spoken since he had woken up either. Vanir had told him he had been out for nearly two days, but hadn’t said anything else. Murtagh knew what had happened, so that hadn’t bothered him. Vanir and Thorn could keep their theories to themselves.

After he had checked him, Vanir had shoved a flask into his hands. Murtagh had to admit it had taken him a while to take the first sip. The first few minutes he had tried to listen in on Thorn and Vanir’s conversation, but that damn magician must have cast some sort of charm; because he had only been able to hear buzzing.

From then on Murtagh had just stared at the flask. Usually he wanted to know whose blood he was drinking if he wasn’t drinking it directly from the source, but knowing the source of that particular blood disturbed him. He had mulled over what Thorn had said for at least a half-hour. Could it really be Eragon’s blood? He could only remember the sweet, sweet smell and addictive taste. When he had opened the flask he had found Thorn’s words to be true. He should have been able to recognize that smell anywhere. Of course he had been drinking Eragon’s blood. He truly was a moron.

The rest of the day had passed slowly. Thorn had only spoken to him to ask if he wanted anything, and Murtagh had replied non-verbally. He was a little afraid that if he spoke, Thorn would attack him and make him confess.

Ah, confess. He was a greater moron than he had ever thought he could be. How had he not seen the signs? He had watched his own father wither away after being separated from his mate, and he had been completely unable to link it back to his own illness. Murtagh had not had any pleasant dreams after coming to that conclusion.

He glanced out of the window. He estimated that it was close to ten in the morning. Thorn was most likely eating his breakfast. He slipped his arms behind his head and sighed.

The news had startled him horribly when he first had gotten them, but now, now he was almost calm. He supposed he just had to accept his fate. That didn’t mean he was happy about it. Damn him for somehow managing to trip over his mate. There were billions of other people on the planet; why the fuck had he had to drink off of his mate that one night?!

Murtagh smirked softly. Because Eragon had smelled so sweet, of course. He had practically smelled like heaven, if heaven smelled sinfully good, that was. It was no wonder he had been ready to rip the chimera to pieces.

His mood turned sombre. And now Eragon was dead. What was he supposed to do? He estimated he had about two months before the hunger would become too much and three or four months until the insanity took him. If he only drank enough blood to keep himself satisfied, he could perhaps keep the illness at bay for another month. If Vanir still had some blood left, then he could last a little longer. Not much longer, of course. He doubted he’d live to see his next birthday.

Murtagh blinked when Thorn suddenly entered the room. He hadn’t even heard him walk over.

“Are you hungry? Thirsty?”

Murtagh just shook his head. Thorn nodded to himself and sat down heavily.

Thorn had to be happy. In less than six months he would be free to live with the love of his life. Murtagh wondered what the chances were of shaking Thorn off his tail, to send him to live with Saphira before he died. It was better to cut the bond before Thorn started to pity him.

“I...” Thorn’s voice shook him out of his thoughts. “There is something I want to tell you.”

What? Would Thorn take the initiative to leave? Murtagh crocked an eyebrow.

“I lied to you earlier, before you dove off the cliff.”

Murtagh blinked.

“What?”

Thorn flinched. The hydra actually looked guilty.

“I did this for you, you need to know that,” Thorn said softly. “It would have taken me ages to get it through your thick skull if I hadn’t taken the risk and lied.”

Murtagh was confused. Lied about what?

“I have to say this now before you seriously get suicidal,” Thorn laughed bitterly. “The thing is...Eragon’s not dead.”

Murtagh felt his eyes widen. If he had been able to feel his heart beat, he was sure it would have skipped a beat.

“Eragon is alive?” he hissed.

“Yeah. I wanted to see if I could get a reaction out of you, something I obviously did. I just wanted you to stop living in denial!”

Eragon...Eragon wasn’t dead? Thorn had _lied_? Murtagh didn’t have to ask to know if the anger was showing on his face.

“Hey, I got you to open your eyes and realise the truth!” Thorn defended himself.

Murtagh didn’t care. He had been lying here, mulling over how long he had left to live; and Thorn had just been jerking his chain?!

“You selfish son of a bitch,” Murtagh growled. “Were you trying to kill me?!”

“I was trying to help you.”

“By trying to kill me?!?” Murtagh roared. “I was thinking about killing myself to get it over and done with, you bastard!”

Thorn scowled.

“Don’t be so melodramatic, Murtagh,” he said gruffly.

“I wasn’t being melodramatic,” Murtagh snarled and jumped out of bed. “I was seriously thinking over how I could end it the quickest.”

Alright, so he hadn’t gone that far yet, but if Thorn had left him alone for only a few more minutes he would have started to think about it.

“Don’t overreact -”

“And here I thought you wanted me to react!” Murtagh practically roared. “Wasn’t that why you lied to me?!”

“I didn’t know what else to do!” Thorn exclaimed. “After the coven, you’ve been acting weird. I was afraid I was going to lose you!”

“BULLSHIT!”

“You weren’t acting like yourself,” Thorn snapped. “I was afraid you were going to do something stupid if you figured it out on your own. I gave you eight months to realise the truth, but obviously you needed a little push.”

“A push? I dove off a cliff! That’s more than **a fucking PUSH**!” Murtagh screamed.

“You need to calm down!”

“ _You_ need to _shut up_!!”

Murtagh caught Thorn’s fist just before it made contact with his face. Thorn leaned down and glared at him.

“It’s not that big of a deal. Yes, I lied to you. Yes, it’s my fault you dove off that cliff because you weren’t thinking clearly. _Yes_ , I deserve to be screamed to. But I will not shut up,” Thorn growled. “Not until we talk.”

“Talk? I’m sorry; talk?!” Murtagh tightened his grip around Thorn’s fist. “What if I don’t want to talk, _hmm_?”

“Then that’s too bad, because we’re going to,” Thorn snapped and ripped his fist out of Murtagh’s hold.

“No, I really don’t think so,” Murtagh sweetly.

Thorn didn’t even have time to react before Murtagh grabbed onto his neck and threw him onto the nearest wall; never letting go of him as he did so. Thorn grunted. Murtagh tightened his hold until he could hear Thorn choke. His pulse was beating rapidly under his palm, and if Murtagh didn’t have as much self-control as he did, he would have bitten him then and there.

“I am sick of talking. I really should have seen through your scheme earlier,” he said and smirked nastily. “You were trying to butter me up; trying to make me see that having a mate wasn’t such a bad thing. I was suspicious of you after that little midnight confession of yours, but when you didn’t mention it again...”

Murtagh looked deep into his eyes and sneered. Thorn glared back at him even as his face started to turn purple.

“Shame on me, huh?” his sneer deepened. “I don’t care what you say, how you spin it; being mated is the worst fucking thing that has ever happened to me. I feel sorry for the kid, for what I now have to do.”

Thorn trashed under his hold. Murtagh loosened his grip for one second to jam his elbow harshly into Thorn’s stomach while he also moved out of the way of the two fists coming his way. The hydra groaned loudly and fell forward. Murtagh slammed him back up against the wall and smashed Thorn’s hands into it so hard that a dent was left behind. The vampire then leaned up and breathed on Thorn’s exposed neck.

“You do realise I’ll have to take him down with me, right?”

Thorn stiffened.

“You wouldn’t,” he snarled, though it came out more as a croak.

Murtagh chuckled darkly.

“It’s against my nature to be mated, you know,” he said innocently. “Everything in me screams that it’s wrong, and I agree.”

“Why not just kill yourself?!” Thorn hissed.

“That wouldn’t be nearly as fun,” Murtagh drawled.

“Are you really going to kill Eragon in front of his kid? His newborn kid?”

For some strange reason, that stung. Murtagh shook the feeling away.

“So? It won’t even remember anything. You know what? I’ll spare that damn chimera, so the kid will have one parent to grow up with. Aren’t I generous?”

Out of the corner of his eye, Murtagh saw Thorn open his mouth angrily. He waited, but Thorn shut it a second later. Murtagh frowned. What now?

“You are a sick son of a bitch,” the hydra snarled instead.

Somehow, that didn’t quite do it for Murtagh. He was curious now.

“Why can’t you just leave him alone and -”

“And what? Die slowly of insanity?” Murtagh spat. “No thank you. I’d rather die with a sane mind and with his blood on my tongue.”

“We can do what we’ve been doing so far,” Thorn said throatily. “Bring you his blood. You won’t ever have to see him.”

“I will not go around living off of blood from a fucking drinking bottle.”

“Then make a deal with him,” Thorn stressed. “You get blood once a month and he will stay out of your life.”

Murtagh narrowed his eyes. Thorn’s pulse was still beating rapidly. The hydra was keeping something from him.

“Why are you so gung-ho on keeping him alive? And don’t say Saphira; it can’t just be about her. Not anymore,” he said huskily.

“It never was,” Thorn admitted. “It was because of you. I wanted you to live. Is that such a crime?”

“Didn’t I just tell you I want to die?” Murtagh drawled.

“Fine. Just leave him alone.”

“No. Never,” he hissed. “He’s like a drug to me; I cannot leave him alone.”

Murtagh didn’t know when he had slacked his grip, but he must have, for not even a second after he had finished his sentence had Thorn thrown him around and pushed him against the wall. He could see Thorn’s injuries more clearly now; the slowly bruising neck, the splinters in his hands, the scrapes from where he must have clawed at the wall.

“I don’t care,” Thorn said slowly. “We’re going to do this my way. You’re mated; deal with it.”

“Your way?” Murtagh leaned his head back.

“Yeah. We’re not leaving this damn island until you’ve sworn to me, and mean it, that you won’t kill Eragon.”

Murtagh let out a loud and insane laugh.

“We’re going to be here for a long time, then.”

“We have all the time in the world,” Thorn smirked. “And I will win.”

Murtagh seriously doubted that. Nonetheless, he wished the hydra good luck. The next couple of months were going to be interesting.

**::OBSESSION::**

When Eragon came down the next morning, he instantly knew that something was wrong. Saphira was wringing her hands and Brom was talking quietly to Vanir in the kitchen. Aksel was nowhere to be found.

“What’s going on?” he asked softly.

Saphira looked up. She bit her lip and gripped her hands tightly. Eragon felt his heart tug. He placed the baby monitor on the table and sat down beside her. He was really glad that Ren was asleep for once. He opened his mouth to ask again, but was cut off.

“We got some disturbing news this morning,” Brom said gruffly.

Eragon felt his eyes widen. Brom and Vanir walked over, but only Brom sat down. Eragon had only seen the magician a few times, but he had never seen him look so haggard.

“I visited Thorn and Murtagh two days ago,” Vanir said simply. “I got here as fast as I could.”

Had something happened to Thorn?

“Thorn’s fine,” Vanir continued. “I can’t say the same for his rider. At least, those were my assumptions until Thorn called me today.”

Saphira let out a soft whimper. Eragon took hold of one of her hands. What the hell had happened?!

“Eragon, Murtagh knows.”

His heart stopped. Suddenly it was Saphira that was holding his hand; not the other way around. He opened his mouth and suddenly found himself breathing again.

“Wha? But, but how?” he asked weakly.

Would he have time to run? He didn’t need much; he could replace most of it in Surda. Fuck, how much time did they have?! He was not losing Ren to that maniac!

“Thorn -”

Eragon didn’t want to hear the rest.

“Thorn blabbed?!” he shrieked.

“No,” Saphira said sternly. “He didn’t. Not like you think.”

“Thorn told Murtagh he was mated. To you,” Vanir licked his lips. “Murtagh didn’t respond well. He seemed suicidal at first, and when Thorn called me it seemed like his mental state hadn’t changed. He wants to come here and kill you.”

Suddenly he was breathing too much. It was starting to hurt, but he couldn’t stop.

“It’s not going to happen,” the magician assured him. “I left a ward around the house. No one but me exits or enters that house. Even Murtagh can’t magic his way out of there.”

“What? Magic?” Eragon asked weakly.

“Because he’s a rider, like you, there are certain things he can do by taking advantage of the bond. I’m guessing you’ve never tried to explore your magic abilities.”

Eragon just shook his head.

“Oh well,” Vanir sighed. “Thorn’s determined that he can change Murtagh. I am not so sure. He’s gotten him to accept that he’s mated, but that’s only half the job.”

“A vampire’s first instinct when he’s told that he’s mated is to kill his other half,” Brom said quietly. “There are very few vampires that have gotten past that state. A few kill themselves, but most of them kill their mates and then die a few months later. Karma, if you will.”

“But there is hope,” Vanir crossed his arms. “If anyone can turn him around, it’s Thorn.

“But you said...” Eragon muttered.

“While I’m not sure that Thorn can do it alone, I didn’t say he couldn’t change him at all,” Vanir raised an eyebrow.

“In February I told you I was going to take you to see a couple,” Brom said and folded his hands before him. “If it’s possible, and I can get his and his mate’s consent, I think that Murtagh should see the same couple. The vampire half of it, that is.”

Eragon flinched in surprise.

“You heard me right,” Brom smiled weakly. “I know one of the few vampires that manage to settle down after he mated. If he consents, I think that it may do Murtagh good to see him.”  
  
“Why are you telling me this?” the brunet whispered.

“Because you’re giving up hope,” Saphira whispered. “We can all see it. That’s why Brom was going to take you to see them. But we don't want you to give up, because we don’t know what would happen if you did.”

“Ren deserves to know of his father. Right now we cannot ask for more, but think Eragon, just think!” Brom paused to chuckle softly. “Think if he could get to meet his father one day and live to tell the tale.”

No, Eragon couldn’t entertain that thought. It just seemed so impossible.

“Right now it seems impossible, we know,” Saphira whispered softly. “But people don’t get mated out of nowhere. Somehow Murtagh picked you. Or fate picked you two; whatever that makes you feel better. You two...maybe you aren’t meant to be, but it’s worth exploring.”

“No. I-I can’t. He’ll-he’ll kill me. And Ren. And Aksel!”

“If he met you now, yes, he would,” Vanir said bitterly. “But in a few months time, who knows?”

“We’re not saying it will be perfect. It might never be,” the older man rubbed his forehead. “But it might be better between you two.”

“Maybe you’ll never be a couple. He’s done far too much damage to you for me to feel comfortable about that thought,” the hydra frowned. “But acquaintances or maybe friends? Maybe someday Ren could actually get to see his father once a month, when he comes into town.”

Eragon looked down. It sounded like something taken out of a fairytale; and not in a good way. It sounded so virtually impossible it was ridiculous!

“He and I will never be friends,” Eragon said softly and stood. “I’m-I’m upset that he found out about our bond so soon, but if there’s anything I can do to keep him away from Ren, I will. I’ll keep donating blood, that’s fine; but he is not allowed to see me or _my_ son.”

He felt more than he saw Saphira flinch beside him. Eragon lowered his head and gripped the baby monitor.

“If you change your mind -”

“I won’t,” Eragon interrupted, though he wasn’t sure whom he was interrupting. “I need to go and check on my son now. You can draw my blood later.”

He nearly sprinted out of the room before someone could do anything to stop him.

**::OBSESSION::**

Thorn was not happy. Two days ago he had finally managed to convince and get Murtagh to admit that he was mated. And where had that led him? Nowhere. _Damn that guy_! And as if that wasn’t enough...

“And he isn’t going to change his mind?” Thorn asked into his hands.

It was two AM and Murtagh was asleep for once. Vanir had dropped by with even more blood, even though he had dropped off more than enough for two months the last time Thorn had called. But Thorn wasn’t going to turn it down, hell no. It was going to be rocky for a while, and if Vanir didn’t have to drop by it was probably for the best.

“I doubt it,” Vanir sighed.

Thorn rubbed his hands over his face. That was just what they needed.

The hydra heard the door to the fridge close. The kitchen had two, one for the regular food and a smaller one that Thorn had hidden inside one of the bottom cabinets. He did not want to store the blood and the food in the same place for two reasons; it was gross and Murtagh would probably drink it all up if he saw it. Thorn entertained the image of Murtagh drunk on too much blood. It was only mildly amusing.

“ _Damn_ ,” Thorn hissed.

“You weren’t...expecting this?” Vanir asked and Thorn heard him close and lock the cabinet door.

“I was. I’m not that naïve,” he let out a frustrated sigh. “But I had hoped he wouldn’t be that freaked or that determined.”

“Hn,” the magician barely made a sound as he walked out of the kitchen. “Murtagh did rape him.”

“I know, I know,” Thorn gripped his hair tightly. “Twice even.”

“Really?” Vanir drawled.

Thorn looked up.

“The first time, when Ren was conceived, might be called rough sex, but I doubt Eragon was very willing when Murtagh showed his true colours.”

Vanir crossed his arms and shook his head.

“ ** _Fakan_**.”

Oh, Thorn wasn’t going to disagree with that.

“The second time it was definitely rape. That was when Eragon woke him up,” Thorn laughed bitterly. “I’m truly amazed Murtagh managed to fool himself for five months when he woke up as soon as he tasted Eragon’s blood. That’s a serious clue right there that he completely overlooked.”

“ ** _Bloyean_** does come from the words **_blo_** and **_yean_** ,” Vanir drawled. “ ** _Blo_** meaning blood and **_yean_** meaning eyes or sight.”

“What’s your point?” Thorn frowned.

“The word basically means _blood-sight_ , meaning that all they can see is blood. So his ignorance partly comes from his specie and blood obsession. All he cared about was getting stronger. Eating makes you stronger.”

“Partly,” the hydra snorted. “He should have noticed when he went from snacking on the guy to jumping on him.”

“True,” Vanir rolled his eyes. “But then again, Murtagh always was the king of denial.”

“Amen to that.”

Vanir sat down on the couch’s armrest. Thorn sighed.

“Has he improved?” the magician asked and nodded his head towards the closed bedroom door.

“No,” the hydra looked down.

“He’s still determined to kill Eragon and himself, then?”

Thorn just nodded his head.

“But he won’t kill himself before he kills Eragon,” Vanir snorted loudly. “That man is backwards.”

“He isn’t going to kill the chimera anymore, though,” Thorn shrugged miserably.

“Oh really? Well, hang on while I rush off to tell Aksel the good news,” the blue eyed man drawled.

“It **is** a good thing,” Thorn stressed and glared at him.

“I know,” Vanir said simply. “It means that the killing-spree phase is over. Now we just need to get him past the suicidal phase.”

Thorn grunted. That was going to take a long, long time.

“There are times when even I wonder why I haven’t given up on him yet,” the redhead mused. “It can’t just be this bloody bond we have. And I get more and more irritated when I can’t find another reason.”

“You knew him when he was a child. Maybe you’re hoping to get that speck of kindness back?”

Thorn chuckled hollowly. That was probably why.

“Don’t give up,” Vanir said softly. “If anyone can do this, it’s you.”

“Yeah...” Thorn smacked his lips. “I could use some help, though.”

“Brom needs to speak to the other vampire first, but I doubt he’ll be turned down,” Vanir shrugged. “I’m sure a meeting with a mated fellow will do Murtagh wonders.”

“I’m not so sure,” Thorn chewed on his bottom lip. “What if the rumours are true? What if they are harmless? Murtagh would walk all over him.”

“Bah,” Vanir stood. “You think a vampire can be turned into mush that easily?”

Thorn gave a soft laugh.

“Alright, maybe not,” he admitted. “But I’m still not sure. Murtagh’s one of the worst ones out there. Only his father’s right hand is worse, seeing as Morzan is no longer alive.”

“Then the vampire will just have to do his best. At least they speak the same ‘language’.”

Thorn rubbed his nose sheepishly. He had tried that himself, and knew he had both failed and succeeded. He doubted he would have been able to subdue Murtagh so efficiently if he hadn’t talked to him that night. He knew that if another vampire had talked to Murtagh about it, then his rider would have accepted the fact more quickly. Maybe. Thorn couldn’t be entirely sure.

“Yeah.”

Vanir nodded. He turned and started to walk away, but Thorn just had to ask a question that wouldn’t leave him alone.

“Do you think that Eragon and Murtagh can ever be friends?”

Vanir stopped. Shadow fell over his eyes when he turned around.

“Friends...or something more?”

Alright, so he shouldn’t have asked.

“Both,” Thorn replied.

Vanir’s mouth tightened.

“I wouldn’t get my hopes up,” he answered.

“On either?” Thorn breathed.

“On the last part,” Vanir slipped his right hand into his right pocket. “I’m not even sure about friends. Eragon doesn’t even want him to meet Ren.”

Thorn flinched.

“But that doesn’t mean he shouldn’t try,” Vanir tilted his head and smirked softly.

Thorn watched him walk away. He heard the door lock behind the magician and felt the shield flare up. At least Murtagh couldn’t run off again.

The hydra stood slowly. He nodded determinedly to himself and went off to bed. He would make sure Murtagh was going to try.

**::OBSESSION::**

Two weeks had passed. Eragon had tried his best to forget everything that had happened during that time. So far the year had started off with a lot more tears and horror than he would have liked.

It was very late, but Ren was awake, so that meant that Eragon had to be too, no matter how tired he actually was. Eragon yawned into his shoulder. He shook his head and looked down at his son. He smiled softly when he saw him drink out of the bottle. Ren’s tiny hands rested against the bottle-top. Ever so often; soft sounds would come from the tiny form. Eragon was sure that he would wake up one day and be shocked to find that he now had a baby.

“Yo.”

Eragon grinned softly. Only one person used that word frequently, and that was the one person he knew wouldn’t mention a certain person he didn’t want to talk about.

“Hey, Aksel,” the brunet said softly. “Why are you awake?”

The blond covered his mouth as he yawned. Then he rubbed his stomach and sat down on the table. Eragon rolled his eyes. Why Aksel would rather not use one of the five empty kitchen chairs, he had no idea.

“I went to the loo, saw the door open and figured the little tyke was awake. Thought I’d say hi,” Aksel grinned.

Eragon nodded softly and looked back down at Ren. They sat in silence for a few minutes while Ren ate.

“Not going to go back to sleep?”

“Nah,” Aksel shrugged. “I figured I wanted to talk to you too.”

Well, Eragon had been wrong in the past. He just hadn’t thought that Aksel would have the guts to ask him about someone the chimera was now deadly afraid of.

“I just wanted to ask if you were sure that keepin’ _that guy_ out of Ren’s life is the right thing to do.”

Eragon looked at him and frowned. Aksel couldn’t be serious.

“I am,” the blond crocked an eyebrow. “I know the dude’s a lunatic, but he’s still Ren’s dad.”

“By blood only,” Eragon said coldly and then winced.

He actually didn’t like to say the word blood anymore. It reminded him of his least favourite vampire _every_ time.

“How did you feel when you found out that your dad ran out on you?” Aksel tilted his head.

Eragon flinched. Aksel actually knew where to hit sometimes. It was no wonder he refrained from doing it.

“You know how I felt.”

Eragon didn’t like to talk about it, but he hadn’t been happy when he had found out. He had never met his father, and didn’t want to. The bastard had run out on Selena when he had found out she was pregnant. Selena hadn’t written his name in her will, only that everything was to go to her newborn son when he turned eighteen and her brother Garrow. Eragon had therefore given up looking for his father, even though he had had a feeling that Garrow knew. Garrow had never told him though, and now he was dead.

“How’d ya think Ren is going to feel when he finds out you kept his father out of his life?”

“Oh, shut up,” Eragon growled lowly. “This is nothing like that! Mom didn’t keep me away from my father, he walked out on us. And he wasn’t a _vampire_!”

Aksel sighed tiredly.

“Mom didn’t tell me about my elf side until my ears started to grow pointed,” the blond said sombrely and traced his left ear. “It hurt. I forgave her, of course, but that was a rough couple of months for us. I just don’t want ya to go through that too.”

“Thanks for the concern, Aksel, but we’ll be fine,” the brunet said and put the bottle away.

Aksel watched him silently as Eragon stood and put Ren against his shoulder so he could burp.

“You’re handling that parent stuff a lot easier than I would have thought,” the chimera said almost inaudibly.

Eragon let out a soft laugh.

“Yeah. Same here.”

Aksel slid down from the table and slipped his hands into his pockets. Why Aksel had pyjama bottoms with pockets, Eragon couldn’t understand. Then again, the chimera wasn’t exactly normal.

“I’m just saying that you should give the guy a break, at least let him know about his kid.”

Eragon pursed his lips.

“Are you suggesting that **I** tell him?” he asked accusingly.

“Yeah. You he’ll believe, at least,” Aksel shrugged. “I know that the last thing you want to do is to confront the dude and tell him, and I can totally understand that, but...don’t you owe it to Ren at least?”

Eragon had to admit that he was seeing an entirely new side of Aksel. He had never known he could be so serious and grown up.

“Just give it some thought. If this vampire dude Brom knows can change, then why can’t Murtagh?”

Eragon blinked. He watched Aksel turn and walk back into the living room. The door behind the blond closed softly. Eragon blinked again. Not only had Aksel said _his_ name, but he had also made a good point.

For some reason, he didn’t feel tired anymore.

**::OBSESSION::**

_Murtagh stared down at his cold-coated hand. Kialandi’s corpse lay at his feet, already on fire and was turning into coal before his eyes. He blinked and suddenly her eyes were alive again. They cackled with mirth and Murtagh snarled in surprise._ She was supposed to be dead! _She stood up and the flames that were eating at her flesh disappeared._

_Murtagh watched as the flesh repaired itself. The hair grew back and the hole in her chest closed slowly, so slowly that he could see the heart inside of it start to beat again._

_‘You will never save them,’ Kialandi cackled._

_‘You’re dead,’ Murtagh said coldly and slammed his fist through her chest again._

_Kialandi screamed. It sounded wrong. Her voice wasn’t that low and husky. Murtagh looked up and felt his eyes widen. That wasn’t Kialandi._

_Eragon looked back at him. Murtagh had never seen that look on his face before, but recognized it from earlier encounters with the emotion. Fear._ Eragon was afraid. _The brunet opened his mouth, but no sound came. And before Murtagh could begin to read his lips, Eragon fell limply into his arms._

_The vampire flinched back. His forearm somehow slipped out of Eragon’s empty chest and the corpse fell to the floor. Murtagh could only stare in shock at the still beating heart in his hand. It was warm._

_Murtagh looked back down, and this time Kialandi once again lay before his feet. Murtagh threw the heart down and lit her on fire. He didn’t stick around to see if she rose again. Something was calling to him; he had to leave. So he ran. He ran and ran until he finally felt that he was coming closer._  Someone was calling for him.

_He slid to a stop. Formora. The white-haired vampire snarled at him._

_‘You’re too late,’ she mocked. ‘They’re already dead. You took Morzan and Kialandi from me, so it’s only fair I that I get to take your loved ones from you.’_

_‘I love no one!’_

_Formora laughed. She laughed and laughed until Murtagh debated whether to tell her to shut up or not. She was annoying him._

_Suddenly she wasn’t in front of him anymore. Murtagh turned around. Where had she gone?_

_Then there was pain; pain like no other on this earth. He looked over his shoulder and saw Formora’s arm disappear into his back. Murtagh could barely hold in the scream._

_‘You should have saved them while you still had the chance,’ Formora whispered hotly into his ear. ‘Now you’ll never have a chance with them.’_

_Murtagh never got a chance to ask who she was talking about. She turned his head around and suddenly there they were. Two corpses, one much smaller than the other, both horribly mutilated. For some reason he recognized them both._

_The smaller one was a young boy. Murtagh figured he was about six years old. His chest had been cracked wide open and Murtagh could see that his heart was gone. There was blood in his dark hair and his skin looked so horribly and deadly pale, even paler because of the blood. And there was so much of it._ How could there be so much? _Bruises were all over him, as well as long and deep claw-like marks. There was a chain clenched tightly in his small hand. The deep brown eyes were wide open and terrified. His other hand was clasped in a much bigger and leaner hand. And there was something else; a small mole on his right cheek that was almost covered by the blood._

 _Murtagh didn’t know who the boy was, but he knew him._ He knew him.

_The other corpse he recognized immediately. One arm that wasn’t holding onto the boy’s hand was broken and lay limply and in a sickly angle on the ground. Both legs were torn and clawed at; some places the claw marks reached the bones. The chest was mangled by claw marks. Murtagh could see flesh, hints of a few organs and the ribs practically stood out from the lashes. Chunks of the brown hair had been torn out and the eyes were at half mast. Even so, they were somehow filled with terror._

_Eragon._ Eragon was dead.

_Formora clenched her hand around his heart and tugged. Murtagh screamed._

_‘Now you know my pain,’ she hissed venomously. ‘And now you shall die.’_

Murtagh shot awake.

For a minute he didn’t breathe. His breath was lodged in his throat and all he could do was stare. He opened his mouth and breathed in the first mouthful of fresh air. It hurt.

He tried to calm his shaking, but it wouldn’t stop. It just wouldn’t stop.

“Murtagh?”

Murtagh glared at him in shock. Thorn stood in the doorway, his pants only half-buttoned and with a towel around his neck. He must have just come out of the shower.

“You were screaming,” Thorn said hesitantly. “Was it a nightmare?”

The vampire looked away. He tried to lift his right arm from the bed. It was shaking. He slowly lifted it until his hand lay over his heart. He closed his eyes and blocked out Thorn’s questions.

His hand curled into a fist and tugged on his t-shirt. He could feel his heart beating.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> **Andelan Vocabulary**  
>  _Fakan_ – The word for “moron” or “idiot”  
>  _Bloyean_ – The word for “vampire”


	13. Once Bitten

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I want to thank everyone that's still following this old thing of mine. You guys are the best. :)
> 
>  _ **Word**_ – word written in my language Andelan.

_::February::_

Thorn stared at his rider worriedly. He had entered the room ten minutes ago, and Murtagh hadn’t moved since. His hand was still clenched into his shirt. Thorn found it odd that his hand was right over his heart. It was almost as if he was afraid it was going to jump out.

“Murtagh?” he repeated.

The vampire didn’t even blink. Thorn buttoned his jeans, threw the towel onto the bed and tugged a sweater over his head. He opened his mouth to speak again when Murtagh finally spoke.

“I’m dying.”

Thorn didn’t need a mirror to know that his eyes were wide open with shock.

“You’re not dying,” he said a little hesitantly.

Murtagh slowly lifted his head. There was something in his eyes, but Thorn couldn’t identify what the emotion was.

“I will be. Soon,” Murtagh said just as emotionlessly.

The hand uncurled itself and Thorn watched it fall to the mattress. Was something wrong with Murtagh’s heart? But...vampires didn’t get sick!

“What the hell are you talking about?”

Murtagh didn’t answer. His eyes glazed over as the vampire’s mask was put on. Thorn watched helplessly as Murtagh slid halfway out of bed. He had never seen his rider look so pathetic.

“Formora is coming for me,” Murtagh smirked.

Formora? The revenge-crazy chick from the coven? Thorn scolded himself for having forgotten about her. Murtagh had most likely killed one of Formora’s friends, and now there was going to be hell to pay. As if killing Morzan hadn’t been enough. Thorn was tempted to snort. He was surprised Murtagh hadn’t mentioned her sooner, though.

“Why didn’t you -?”

“Mention her sooner?” Murtagh crocked an eyebrow. “I forgot. I was too busy answering or avoiding your insane questions.”

Thorn narrowed his eyes.

“What are you going to do about her, then?” Thorn crossed his arms.

Murtagh pushed himself to his feet. The hydra nearly rushed over when Murtagh had to steady himself.

“I’ll kill her, obviously,” Murtagh drawled, as if stumbling after getting out of bed was completely normal for him.

“So then you have three people on your to-kill list?”

“I’d love to get Durza too, but the bastard doesn’t leave the castle. Doesn’t want to make the same mistake my father did,” the vampire shrugged. “Three people will have to be enough.”

“It’s been three weeks, Tag,” Thorn said pinched the bridge of his nose. “Can’t you give up your suicide mission already?”

“Hmm. I’m thinking _no_.”

Thorn really wanted to smack him. Murtagh chuckled. Obviously Thorn hadn’t gotten better at hiding his anger.

“What was the nightmare about, Tag?” Thorn asked suddenly.

Murtagh stopped. Something flickered in his eyes.

“It was nothing,” he said dryly.

“Usually you say that it was your ‘old man’ or you were dreaming about the ‘old days’. What could be so terrifying that you can’t even say it out loud?” Thorn tilted his head.

Murtagh’s mouth thinned.

“I think it had something to do with Formora, due to your sudden realisation that she’s coming for you,” the hydra continued. “And -”

“Stop analysing me,” the dark haired man growled.

“You’re scared,” Thorn said softly. “You’re actually scared. That was what I saw. What was your dream about, Murtagh?”

Murtagh just flipped him off and stalked out of the room.

**::OBSESSION::**

“I don’t want to leave him,” Eragon said softly.

Saphira sighed. It was still another week until Brom was taking Eragon and her to see the couple, but Eragon had started to complain from day one. He did not want to leave Ren, but he also refused to take his son with him.

“I’ll ask if they can come over, then,” Brom sighed.

“No, Eragon will go,” Saphira said firmly. “He needs to leave the house.”

“But Saphira!”

“No buts! You’ve been locked up here for months! You don’t have a reason to stay inside anymore.”

Eragon closed his mouth. Brom let out a heart-felt chuckle and stood.

“I’ll let them know we’re coming, then,” he chuckled again and left the room.

Eragon looked at her accusingly. Saphira rolled her eyes and crossed her arms over her chest. Eragon could be so stubborn sometimes.

“If you’re worried about Ren, I’ll stay behind and watch him,” she said softly.

“But I need you with me, Saphira,” Eragon said then.

Saphira smiled gently. She took one of his hands in hers and squeezed it.

“Who do you trust to look after Ren but me?” she tilted her head. “I’ll look after him. Besides, you’ll have Brom.”

“Is that supposed to be comforting?” the brunet drawled.

Saphira let out a soft laugh.

“Maybe not. But you won’t be alone.”

“The thought of being alone with Brom when I meet two strangers is not comforting,” Eragon winced.

“He asked if you wanted them to visit us instead,” Saphira pointed out.

“But...” he bit his lip.

“No one is going to call you crazy for being cautious around vampires, Eragon,” the hydra snorted. “Some might even call you sane. I know you hate prejudice, but sometimes it’s inevitable. Just try to keep an open mind when you meet them.”

Eragon didn’t reply.

“Would you rather the girls babysit Ren?” Saphira drawled.

“God, no!” Eragon exclaimed.

Saphira laughed. Arya and Nasuada were very enthusiastic whenever they came to visit. Granted, not as bad as Saphira knew they could have been, but still the sight of them gushing over baby Ren somehow freaked Eragon out. Perhaps he was scared they would steal him because they found him so adorable? Saphira had to hold in another giggle. That was probably what he was scared of.

“And I know you think Aksel’s a no-go. That leaves me, Eragon.”

Eragon cursed.

“You’ll be fine,” she said softly. 

“But...” he paused.

Saphira smiled. She kissed his cheek and ruffled his hair. She laughed loudly when Eragon scrambled to wipe his cheek and flat down his hair at the same time.

“Don’t worry too much, Eragon. Brom won’t lead you into any danger.”

Eragon nodded his head softly. She frowned. He looked like he wanted to say something.

“Um...Saphira...”

Ren chose then to start crying. Saphira wanted to curse. Eragon jolted and gave her a sheepish look.

“It doesn’t matter. I’ll just...” he shrugged and left the room.

Saphira sat down on the couch and fought the urge to pout. Somehow she had a feeling that Eragon had been about to say something important; something she doubted he’d dare to say again. She curled a strand of hair around her finger and tugged at it.

“Is somethin’ wrong?”

“I think Eragon’s keeping something from me,” she replied.

Aksel was scratching his head as he stepped out of the shadows.

“Kind of like you,” she added and crocked an eyebrow.

Aksel grinned sheepishly. He flopped down beside her and put his feet on the table. Saphira rolled her eyes. At least he had taken off his shoes this time.

“So, where have you been lately, stranger?”

The chimera shrugged.

“No, no, don’t give me that,” Saphira narrowed her eyes.

“I’ve been around,” Aksel answered innocently.

“Bullocks,” the hydra snorted. “Tell me.”

Aksel scratched his neck this time. He took his feet off the table and turned to face her. Saphira stopped tugging at her hair.

“I’ve been in and out of Osilon,” the blond said and started to tug at his right sleeve. “With Arya, though. She didn’t want to take me further into the forest and I...I was scared.”

Saphira blinked. Aksel had been in the middle of the elven woods all this time? Granted, it had only been two weeks, but...

“Why didn’t you tell us?” she murmured.

“I told the Teach,” Aksel looked up. “He said he’d tell you. I’m guessing he got a little preoccupied with Eragon and stuff and forgot.”

“Why were you there?” she asked softly.

“Because I’m turning twenty-one soon, I wanted to ask a few of the...appropriate people what might happen to me,” the blond replied just as softly. “I was scared that they wouldn’t -”

“Accept you? But you’re three quarters elf!” Saphira exclaimed.

“Well, elves are prissy people, you know that,” Aksel shrugged. “And Arya’s pretty high up on the food chain. I wasn’t too sure how they’d react when they found out that I was her bastard half-brother. But I knew that without her, they would probably just throw me out.”

“What happened?”

Aksel gulped. Saphira reached out and patted his arm. She felt terrible for having forgotten about Aksel for so long. He was her friend too. She never realised how quiet he could be. Sure, he was loud and boasted a lot, but when it came to personal problems, he clamped up and fussed over everyone else so that no one would ask how he was doing.

“They were actually pretty cool. Arya’s mom actually left her nest to come and see me,” he smiled softly. “She’s an awesome woman. She answered all of my questions and more. It was...very strange.”

“What happens now then?” she frowned. “What did you go there to ask about, anyway?”

“Ya know how I’ve been very...absent when Vanir’s around, right?”

Saphira smiled. So that was it.

“You’ve met him a total of two times, I think,” she tilted her head. “Was that enough?”

Aksel ducked his head. She was tempted to giggle over the blush on his cheeks.

“Apparently. And it sucks. It sucks so much!” the blond sulked.

“Why?”

“It’s never going to happen,” he replied dully.

Saphira frowned. That didn’t sound like Aksel at all.

“He’s been like that ever since he talked to mother.”

Saphira jumped. Damn all elves and their light feet!

Arya closed the door behind her and sighed.

“I’ve tried to talk him into doing it, but he...” she trailed off.

“Stubbornness runs in the family,” Aksel drawled.

Arya snorted. Saphira looked behind her, but it didn’t seem like anyone else was coming.

“Nasuada’s still at work,” Arya said suddenly.

Saphira blinked

“I see,” she hummed. “But you’ve tried to talk to this moron?”

“Mhm,” Arya crossed her arms. “And he refuses to listen.”

Aksel looked tempted to stick his tongue out at her, and to Saphira’s surprise, he didn’t. He simply crossed his arms and looked away, clearly sulking.

“When I fell for Nas, I wasn’t sure she was even bisexual,” Arya said and walked to stand behind her brother.

Saphira watched Aksel stiffen slightly.

“But did I give up? No. And look at us now.”

“I’m not you, sis,” Aksel said softly. “And _he_ is definitely nothin’ like Nasuada!”

“What’s going on?”

Saphira gave a small laugh. A typical Eragon question.

“Aksel’s in love,” Arya teased.

Aksel spluttered loudly. Eragon sniggered. Saphira saw him slip the baby monitor into his pocket before walking over.

“Then what’s the problem?” the brunet asked.

“It’s Vanir,” Saphira smirked.

“Dear God, how?!” Eragon exclaimed.

Aksel was slowly sinking deeper and deeper into the back of the couch. Saphira almost felt sorry for him.

“That’s not the issue. Aksel here refuses to do something about it,” Arya said looked pointedly down at her brother.

Aksel scowled.

“...” Eragon licked his lips. “Say, elves have their rituals, right?”

“Yes,” Arya crocked an eyebrow.

Saphira looked at the brunet. He seemed very thoughtful.

“Who makes the advances?” Eragon asked a little hesitantly.

“The dominant one, but of course,” the black haired woman answered and shrugged. “Why?”

Eragon just grinned. Saphira wanted to slap herself. Of course!

“Oy, it’s not like that!” Aksel protested.

Arya started to laugh. Aksel jumped up and stalked over to an armchair and sat down again. Saphira wanted to laugh. He looked so offended.

“My baby bro, a submissive,” Arya brushed away a tear from her right eye. “Well, I guess the genes could only go so far.”

“Fuck you,” Aksel sulked.

Saphira watched him closely. She knew he wasn’t denying it, but he wasn’t confirming it either. Something was up.

“Oh, he’s not submissive,” Eragon said then.

Saphira blinked. Eragon was surprisingly sharp today.

“He just doesn’t want to put himself out there. He knows Vanir will recognize what he’s doing right away, and he’s scared that will make him get turned down faster.”

Aksel didn’t speak up.

“Is that it, Aksel?” Arya asked softly.

Aksel just shrugged.

“You won’t know until you try,” Saphira said encouragingly.

“Have you met the guy?” the blond almost pouted. “There’s no way he’ll...”

“Submit?” Arya crocked an eyebrow. “We won’t think less of you if you submit to him.”

“But that’d require him to give a damn about me!” Aksel exclaimed. “Somethin’ he doesn’t!”

Saphira wanted to laugh, so she did. She wondered why she was always surrounded by clueless morons.

“Things are a bit haywire right now, Aksel,” Arya said softly and walked over to him. “Maybe once things have quieted down...”

Aksel snorted loudly. Arya placed a hand on his shoulder.

“You’re saying he’ll leave? If he wants to remain friends with Thorn, he’ll be around here a lot. Saph over there has won his heart, after all.”

Saphira blushed.

“Just...don’t give up, alright?”

Aksel just tilted his head. Arya said a few quick words to him in _Andelan_ before standing up. Aksel nodded.

“So, what’s going on here with you two?” Arya said and smiled. “Or rather, with Eragon?”

The brunet winced. Saphira laughed. Within a minute of explaining the situation, Aksel looked to be back to his old self. Saphira made a mental note to keep a better eye on him though. She doubted this drama was over.

**::OBSESSION::**

Murtagh stared at the wall in front of him. Night had fallen, and to throw Thorn off his trail he had pretended to go to sleep. Of course, he had gotten out of bed and left the room the minute Thorn had nodded off.

Murtagh licked his lips. He flexed his fingers before resting his folded hands against his lips again. He rubbed the tip of his nose against one of his fingers while continuing to stare into the air.

No matter what he did, the dream, _the nightmare_ , wouldn’t leave his mind. He had been trying to pick it apart the few times Thorn had left him alone long enough to think. He had never had a nightmare like that one before. Either his father was coming for him or the coven was torturing him. No one in his life had popped up in his dreams before; not even Thorn. It seemed horribly out of place for Eragon to be there then, especially that boy he hadn’t recognized.

The vampire narrowed his eyes. Alright, so maybe Eragon being there made sense. Soon Eragon would mean something that not even Thorn could compete with. Or rather, the brunet already meant something to him. Murtagh didn’t like to admit it, and he probably never would either, but Eragon had become his life source. And he hated it. God, he hated it will all of his heart. He didn’t want to have to depend on someone else to live! He didn’t care what Thorn said, that by being a vampire he already had to depend on people to live; that was different. He couldn’t hunt anymore. His line of vision had thinned until only one person remained before him, and that person was Eragon.

“ ** _Morthor_** ,” Murtagh scowled.

His entire being ached to kill him. His mouth had watered when he had thought about finally getting to kill Eragon, to feel his heart slow and to see the light fade from his eyes. But now, after that dream...

He actually hadn’t thought his plan through. Murtagh thought he had grown out of his old self. He hadn’t tortured anyone in ages. That was, before the chimera. And he hadn’t been able to finish him off.

Murtagh rested his forehead against his hands. He wondered what it all meant. But right now it didn’t matter. It couldn’t matter. The dream had taught him one thing, made him realise a second, and had left him thirsting for third.

First of all, he knew he was no longer able to kill Eragon. Somehow, he had moved past that stage. He was starting to accept the bond. He hated it, he hated it so much he wished he could kill it, but he knew he couldn’t kill Eragon anymore.

He didn’t love Eragon, though. Murtagh smirked. He was incapable of love; his father had seen to that. He would just remain possessive of Eragon.

Second of all, he needed to get off the island. If Formora somehow found out about Eragon, she wouldn’t rest until she killed him. Murtagh wasn’t going to let that happen. Eragon was only allowed to die by his hands.

He could acknowledge that he was going to become protective of the brunet soon, if he hadn’t already. He had been ready to kill the chimera for the sole reason that Eragon had been pregnant. Pregnant by that half-creature. Murtagh scowled.

That brought him to his third point. He needed to know who that boy was. It hadn’t been himself; Murtagh knew that much. He didn’t have that brown eyes, and it didn’t make sense for him to see himself dead. He had thought about it being Eragon’s kid, but the kid had dark hair. Last time he checked, and unless he dyed it, the chimera had blond hair. So who was the second parent of Eragon’s child?

Murtagh stood up suddenly. Could it be...? But Thorn wouldn’t have...would he? He gritted his teeth when he realised that yes; Thorn fucking would.

He stalked over to the laptop Thorn had purchased a few weeks ago. He started it and easily got on. Thorn had made two accounts, one for himself and one for Murtagh. The vampire smirked. Doing that last part had been a huge mistake.

It took two minutes for the laptop to start. Murtagh then connected it to the net and clicked on the internet icon. A part of his mind was screaming that it was too easy, that what he was thinking couldn’t be true. But it didn’t matter. He needed to know, and he needed to know **now**.

Murtagh found the Alagaësian birth register easily enough. He clicked onto the link that sent him to the Palancar Valley section. He didn’t know what hospital to look at, but typed in _January_ and waited. He scowled. That was a lot of births for just one valley.

He tapped his fingers against the table’s surface. It had been early January, if he remembered correctly. He then gritted his teeth and started to read over the first page. He made it to the third page before he was ready to give up. Damn them for listing the hospitals chronologically, then the births of in the January month of that hospital. But he wasn’t just curious, _he needed to know_. He was not giving up. Murtagh growled and clicked on next page.

He was rewarded for the little patience he had had. There it was; Ren L. Rider, born to an Eragon B. Rider on January 4th. Eragon wasn’t that common of a name, so that had to be the one.

It took Murtagh a little while longer to hack his way into the hospital’s register. They were just begging for someone to hack in by having it online. Murtagh snorted and searched up the kid.

“Rider, Ren,” Murtagh read aloud. “January fourth, male, human, mother Eragon, father...”

He licked his lips. Eragon hadn’t filled in the father’s name. He looked further down and found the descriptions of the child.

“Dark brown hair...they can see it that early?” Murtagh snorted. “Mole on the right cheek?”

The dream flashed before his eyes. That was the boy he had seen. He had seen Eragon’s kid. But how?

Murtagh paused when he saw a new link. The brunet had filled in a parental form? He opened the file.

He read over Eragon’s details without really seeing them. He almost cursed when he saw that Eragon had neglected to fill in the father’s name at that form as well. He was ready to log out when he saw it. Eragon had filled in something.

“Vampire?” Murtagh whispered.

He looked back and checked the specie of the kid. It hadn’t changed and he hadn’t read wrong. Eragon’s kid was human.

Murtagh licked his lips.

“It’s mine.”

**::OBSESSION::**

Eragon shot awake. He rubbed a hand over his eyes and tried to make sense of why he was awake. The room was silent, meaning that it wasn’t Ren. The house also seemed otherwise silent.

Eragon pushed himself up. He stifled a yawn and got out of bed. He padded over to Ren’s crib and checked in on him. A soft smile graced his lips. Ren was adorable. Suddenly he understood why mothers doted on their children, even when the only thing Eragon had seen was an ugly pink thing. When it was your own kid, you saw past that.

The brunet ran a finger gently over Ren’s cheek. The baby didn’t even stir. Eragon walked over to the door and shut it softly behind him. He then walked into the kitchen and got himself a glass of water. He leaned onto the counter and sipped it slowly.

As he stood there, he thought about everything that had happened. He almost couldn’t believe that Ren was going to be a month old soon. So much had happened during that month. Everything seemed to be changing.

Eragon looked down at the glass. He swirled the water around in it as he bit his lip. Even Aksel was changing. What or who was next? Murtagh?

He smiled bitterly. Yeah, right. That was as likely to happen as...something that was very unlikely to happen...or something like that.

Eragon raised the glass back to his lips and drank. It reminded him what he had been about to say earlier that day. It was almost surreal that he was thinking about it. But for a second, he had almost gone ahead and asked Saphira if he had made the right choice by not putting up Murtagh’s name. But that was insane. He was less sure about his decision to put up Murtagh’s specie and birthplace. What had he been thinking? He knew he could easily go back and erase it, but...but he didn’t want to. It felt wrong to exclude the vampire entirely, even if the only thing he wasn’t excluded from was Ren’s papers.

Eragon sighed and looked down. Now he was feeling guilty. He wasn’t getting enough sleep, or something. There was no way he was going to feeling guilty about keeping Murtagh out. Eragon nodded to himself. That was better. He rolled his eyes and looked up. He had to be careful, or he would start to question his own sanity.

The brunet lifted a hand to cover his mouth. Finally he was tired again. He smiled tiredly and went to put away the glass. He didn’t finish turning around.

There, right in front of him, at the other end of the house...eyes. Someone was looking directly at him. The glass fell from his hand and crashed at his feet.

The eyes were black; vampire black.

  **::OBSESSION::**

“Woah, slow down!” Thorn yawned. “Eragon saw what, now?”

 _“Black eyes!”_ Saphira repeated. _“Where is Murtagh??”_

Thorn opened the door to the room and peaked outside. Immediately a pair of blank hazel eyes met his.

“He’s here,” Thorn said blankly.

_“Then who was it that Eragon saw?!”_

Thorn frowned. He didn’t like what Saphira was implying.

“Is he certain of what he saw?”

 _“Yes, very,”_ Saphira sighed. _“He says that he’s seen enough vampire eyes to recognize them a mile away, and I believe him.”_

The hydra looked back at Murtagh. The vampire crocked an eyebrow. He was sitting at the couch, reading some book that Thorn couldn’t quite see the title of. Clearly he hadn’t gone to bed after all.

“Then it wasn’t Tag,” Thorn said and looked away. “Did he see anything else?”

Thorn heard Murtagh move before he saw the movement. Murtagh’s expression was no longer blank. The hydra couldn’t identify what the emotion was, but he wasn’t sure he liked it.

 _“No. Just a shadow and the eyes,”_ Saphira paused. _“Are you still with him?”_

“Mhm,” he replied honestly.

_“Is that wise?”_

“Maybe, maybe not,” Thorn shrugged. “But he’s going to ask me later, anyway.”

 _“You’re trying to bring out his protective side,”_ she murmured softly. _“Why?”_

“Remember what I told you about? That’s why.”

Saphira fell silent. Thorn watched as Murtagh’s face darkened. Clearly his rider had seen through him, and he was not pleased.

 _“You think the nightmare had anything to do with Eragon?”_ she asked.

“Now more than ever,” the redhead nodded.

 _“Call me later. And...do you know who it may be?”_ the last part was whispered.

Obviously he wasn’t the only one around people.

“I’ll call Vanir and send him over. He’ll tell you,” Thorn said and licked his lips. “Be careful, alright?”

_“You too.”_

Thorn hung up, his eyes never leaving his rider’s. He then flipped the phone open again and dialled Vanir’s number. Silently he hoped that Vanir hadn’t gone to bed yet.

_“What?!”_

Hmmm, apparently that had been too much to hope for.

“Trouble at the Teller residence,” Thorn said simply.

 _“Who?”_ Vanir asked; all traces of the previous anger was gone from his voice.

“You know who.”

 _“Well, fuck,”_ Vanir paused. _“I’ll be there in an hour.”_

“Hurry,” Thorn stressed.

Vanir didn’t even answer. Thorn knew the magician knew the urgency of the situation.

“You will tell me what’s going on, and you will tell me now,” Murtagh growled.

For a split second, Thorn wondered if he had done the right thing. Murtagh was going to know for sure if he lied now. But he needed to know.

He had suspected that Murtagh’s nightmare had been about Eragon, or rather, Eragon dying. In that case, maybe Murtagh wasn’t as lost as Thorn had feared.

“Eragon had a visitor about fifteen minutes ago,” Thorn said nonchalantly. “He claims it was a vampire.”

Murtagh stiffened. Thorn waited for his eyes to bleed black-red, but it didn’t happen. Murtagh only curled his hands into fists and gritted his teeth.

“Formora,” he hissed. “Take me there, _now_.”

“We’re not going anywhere,” the redhead frowned. “If it is her, she’s after you, Murtagh.”

“And Eragon,” Murtagh stood.

“But she doesn’t know that you’re...” Thorn trailed off. “She doesn’t, right?”

“Durza may have guessed the reason for my unwillingness to drink his provided blood by now,” Murtagh’s mouth thinned. “And if she somehow managed to sniff her way over to them -”

“How could she be able to do that?”

“Ren.”

Thorn felt his heart stop. He had never told Murtagh what Eragon had named their kid. How could he know?

“The kid is what, a month old? He’s bound to still smell like his parents. If she picked up on his trail or yours...God knows you’ve been there enough...then she may have just put the pieces together,” Murtagh sneered. “Even Vanir could have led her there.”

“We’re not going, Murtagh,” Thorn repeated.

He made sure not to say anything to confirm that Ren was Murtagh’s kid. If Murtagh was just winging it, then he would fly off his rocker if Thorn confirmed his believes.

“We are,” the vampire snarled. “She is not going to harm my mate or _my_ child.”

Well, fuck...he knew. Thorn licked his lips.

“How did you -”

“Find out?” Murtagh sneered. “That’s none of your business. I cannot believe you lied to me about that, Thorn.”

“I never lied,” Thorn protested.

“Well, you sure as hell didn’t tell me the truth,” Murtagh let out a harsh and bitter laugh. “Then again, that **is** your policy around me lately. Need-to-know basis only. You’d think that fathering a kid would be on that list.”

“You would have killed them both!” the redhead exclaimed.

“Hn,” the vampire sat back down. “I know. I didn’t say you did the wrong thing.”

Thorn blinked. What was going on? A light suddenly went on in his mind.

“You did dream that Eragon died,” he breathed. “I just...I never assumed that Ren would be in your dream too.”

Murtagh shrugged.

“We’re still not going, though. Let Vanir handle this.”

The hazel eyes narrowed almost impossibly. Thorn saw a flicker of black before it was gone. Alright, _now_ Murtagh was pissed.

“They’re not going to let you into that house, Murtagh,” Thorn said firmly.

Murtagh smirked. Thorn did not like the slight hint of crazy he saw in it.

“Just let me roam around outside. If she’s there, I’ll track her down,” the smirk widened.

“Yes, that’s the way to win Eragon over; kill someone right in front of him,” Thorn drawled.

The smirk fell from Murtagh’s lips.

“Whoever said I was courting him?” he said blankly.

Now Thorn was confused.

“You’re not?” the hydra frowned.

“Tch,” Murtagh looked away. “Love’s for sissies.”

Translation; _I can’t love_. Thorn hung his head. Right. Murtagh had said something like that during his non-violent years. That did not bode well; especially since Thorn knew Murtagh’s libido as much as the vampire did.

“You’re going to want to fuck him eventually,” Thorn pointed out.

‘Fuck him again’ would be the correct way to put it, but Thorn didn’t want to be reminded of what he had brought Eragon into by asking the brunet for a favour.

“I know,” Murtagh drawled.

“Then why are you -”

“I’ll just find substitutes,” the vampire glared at him. “You can want to fuck someone and not have feelings for them, you know.”

Thorn did know that. He just wasn’t sure Murtagh could want to sleep with Eragon for the third time without being attracted to him at all.

**::OBSESSION::**

Despite feeling very worried, Eragon was amazed by the number of people that had showed up at three in the morning.

Saphira and Brom were standing guard by the terrace door while Aksel was hovering by his side. Ren was sleeping peacefully in the corner while Nasuada and Arya were talking quietly by the kitchen door. And they were still waiting for Vanir to arrive.

“If...” Aksel trailed off.

Everyone stopped talking and looked over at them. Eragon was tempted to blush, probably would have done so as well hadn’t he been too busy panicking. Someone was after him... _again_.

“If Thorn knew who it was, why didn’t he warn ya?”

Saphira bit her lip.

“He probably didn’t want to agitate Murtagh,” she said softly.

“So now he’s all clued in?” Aksel asked.

“I don’t think so,” Saphira crossed her arms. “He doesn’t know about Ren yet.”

Eragon felt himself let out a relieved breath. He had enough on his plate. If Murtagh found out...

“Then what?” Arya asked softly.

“Murtagh’s starting to accept reality. Thorn’s just trying to make him accept it faster,” Brom said gruffly. “If it is a vampire that’s lurking around on my property, and they’re after Eragon, there’s no one better to fight them off than Murtagh.”

“Fight or kill?” Nasuada pointed out.

Eragon flinched.

“Most likely the latter. It depends on who the intruder is,” Brom replied.

“It will be the latter.”

Eragon saw Aksel jolt out of the corner of his eye. Vanir had arrived.

“You know who it is?” the older man asked.

“Formora,” Vanir said simply.

Brom cursed.

“She’s still alive?”

“Unfortunately,” the magician drawled. “If she shows her face here and Murtagh is around, he’ll tear her to pieces.”

“Who has the kid killed to make her that angry?” Brom asked with a frown.

“Besides Morzan? Kialandi,” Vanir replied and walked further into the room.

“He does have a death wish,” Brom said tiredly.

“Or he’s just mad,” Vanir shrugged.

Eragon was unable to follow anything that was being said. Formora, Kialandi? He looked over at Saphira and was surprised to have Brom meet his eyes instead.

“Formora and Kialandi are Durza’s bodyguards. Durza is the current head of the coven that guards the vampire council,” Brom said and rubbed a hand over his forehead. “It was widely known that Formora wanted to be Morzan’s bride. To have him snatched out of her fingers by a nine year old child...well, you can imagine her rage. And with Kialandi gone, Formora only has Durza left. She’s out for revenge this time.”

“Then why is she here?” Arya asked. “She cannot possibly know about Eragon and Murtagh.”

“Ren is just young enough to still smell like his parents. I’m sure Formora knows Murtagh’s scent by heart. She just put the pieces together,” Brom explained.

“That’s it. I’m moving to Surda,” Eragon said and stood shakily. “I can’t take much more of this.”  
  
“If you leave, she’ll only catch you,” Saphira said quietly. “It’s too late to run now.”

Eragon gripped his hair tightly. Aksel slid an arm around his shoulder and patted his head. Eragon looked up confusedly. He had expected Aksel to hightail out of there. Apparently not. Aksel sent him a weak smile, as if he knew what Eragon was thinking.

“Teller and I can set up barriers around the house, but...” Vanir pursed his lips. “It’ll only keep her out for so long.”

Eragon bit his lip.

“Our best bet is to wait for the right moment, evacuate everyone and bring Murtagh over to take her out.”

Eragon stared at the magician in shock.

“But, we can’t -”

“I’ll talk to Thorn to make sure it’s safe. You’ll be transported out of here first,” Vanir said gravely.

“She’ll know if she comes back to an empty house,” Brom frowned.

“If she breaks in here, she’ll kill everyone she can get her hands on,” Vanir said gruffly.

“Do you take me for a fool?” Brom snorted. “I’ll make sure everyone is safe and we’ll put the strongest barrier we can around the house. But we cannot leave.”

Vanir didn’t reply. Eragon grabbed onto Aksel and felt the blond shift beside him. Eragon didn’t like this, not at all.

“Go and tell them the news,” Brom said finally. “I doubt she’ll come back tonight, but we have no time to lose.”

Vanir nodded. Eragon clenched his eyes shut. When was the horror going to end?

**::OBSESSION::**

 

Saphira watched as Eragon tossed in his sleep. It was close to seven in the morning, but she had been unable to go back to sleep. Arya and Nasuada had refused to leave the house when Brom had asked whether they wished to stay or not.

Saphira sighed. She glanced over at the second form in the bed. Eragon had simply refused to let go of Aksel, not that she could blame him. He was scared now. Aksel hadn’t seemed to mind, thankfully. The hydra stood and checked in on Ren before leaving the room. The baby had slept through the nightmare, thankfully. She wasn’t sure Eragon could have handled having to calm down Ren while he was panicking.

She found Brom awake when she stepped into the living room. The curtains were pulled for at every window and she could feel the magic that cocooned the house. Brom gave her a soft nod.

“I’m going to call Thorn,” she said and closed the door to the hall. “Would you like to participate?”

Brom looked shocked by her offer. Saphira smiled and picked up Brom’s cordless phone. She dialled Thorn’s number.

“If you want me to,” he frowned.

“Our calls aren’t strictly personal. We update each other on the situation on each end. I’m sure he won’t mind,” Saphira said and put the phone on speaker.

_“Who won’t mind what?”_

Saphira smiled.

“Brom’s here with me. Is that alright, Thorn?”

 _“You know it is,”_ Thorn replied. _“What did Vanir tell you?”_

“Formora,” Brom said gruffly.

 _“That’s our best bet, yeah,”_ Thorn sighed.

“Our?” Saphira blinked.

_“It was Murtagh that tipped me off that she might be arriving. A nightmare tipped him off.”_

“Nightmare?” Brom frowned. “He has prophetic dreams?”

 _“Hardly,”_ Thorn snorted. _“But his dreams like to remind him how fragile he is and what would happen if he lost everything. Now losing everything means losing Eragon and Ren.”_

There was a silence.

_“I did not just say that, did I?”_

“Thorn?” Saphira gulped. “What’s going on?”

 _“Murtagh was a suspicious asshole and dug into the hospital’s online records. He knows about Ren,”_ the redhead said in defeat.

Saphira shot a look at Brom. The older man looked practically frozen in his seat.

“Does he...?”

 _“No,”_ Thorn answered her with a soft laugh. _“He actually wants to protect the both of them.”_

Brom was still staring at the phone in shock.

“Does this mean that he’ll -” she began half-excitedly.

 _“No,”_ the male hydra sighed. _“He told me he refuses to court him.”_

Saphira felt her breath hitch.

“But the homicidal tendencies towards the boy are gone?” Brom asked gruffly.

 _“Yes, sir,”_ Thorn replied. _“He said himself that he wants to rip Formora to pieces because she wants to harm_ his mate and his child _.”_

Saphira felt her mouth fall open.

“He finally admitted it out loud,” she whispered in disbelief.

_“Yeah, it shocked me too.”_

_“You have so little faith in me. I feel like I should feel offended,_ ” a fourth voice entered the conversation unexpectedly.

She felt Brom stiffen more than she saw it.

“You, boy,” Brom said coldly.

 _“Yes?”_ Murtagh drawled.

“Do you swear you aren’t going to kill Eragon or his kid?”

Murtagh chuckled. Saphira felt an unpleasant shiver run down her spine.

 _“No one harms what’s mine, Teller,”_ Murtagh said, and Saphira could practically picture his smirk.

“That’s not an answer, boy!” Brom barked.

_“I swear not to harm my mate or my child.”_

_“You bastard. You always have to interrupt me while I’m on the phone!”_ Thorn growled.

 _“Not every time,”_ Murtagh drawled. _“And Teller?”_

“What?” Brom narrowed his eyes.

 _“I may have sworn not to harm them, but you know I’ll wish to,”_ the vampire said quietly. _“Especially when it comes to my lovely mate.”_

Saphira opened her mouth to snarl at him, but Brom motioned for her to be silent.

“I know, Morzansson,” the older man said coldly.

_“Glad to know that we’re on the same page. But mark my words, harm Formora and I’ll kill you for taking away the pleasure for me to taking her down myself.”_

Saphira nearly flinched at the raw hatred in his voice. She just wasn’t sure who the hatred was aimed at; Brom or this Formora.

“I’ll talk to you later, Thorn,” Saphira said softly.

_“I’ll call you.”_

Saphira listened to the dialling tone before disconnecting the call on their end.

“It seems like we’re out of the woods,” Brom said tiredly and pushed himself to his feet. “I’m impressed.”

“By what?” Saphira asked quietly.

“That it only took him a month to accept his fate.”

Saphira pursed her lips. She watched him walk into his own quarters in silence.

**::OBSESSION::**

Thorn hadn’t stopped bitching for ten minutes about how he had snuck up on him and interrupted his call. Murtagh snorted. It was almost like he had done it a million times as opposed to it being his first time doing it.

It was getting close to noon and Thorn had been asleep for nearly four hours. The redhead had simply refused to sleep before Saphira had called. And from the earlier call from Vanir, Murtagh calculated that he had about ten hours before the magician arrived. _Lovely_.

Murtagh fingered Thorn’s phone as he stared out of the window. So she had finally arrived. **Formora**. Murtagh knew she wasn’t going to rest until she had killed him, Eragon, Ren and everyone else that stood in her way. And he knew how it would end if he put it aside. He needed to kill her as fast as possible. She was threatening what was his. She was not going to get away with that.

From what Thorn had told him, Vanir and Brom planned to put a barrier around the house and stay inside of it shivering like frightened rabbits while Murtagh took out Formora. He truly appreciated how expendable he was.

Murtagh snorted. Now he was feeling sorry for himself? He was glad, damnit! He finally had a reason to take down the last of Durza’s bitches. He smirked. Yes, he was looking forward to this. Of course, he would need to be well rested and fully fed before he attacked. No matter what people thought, sending out a hungry vampire to kill someone was not a good idea. It did not help that they were blood thirsty, especially not when someone whose blood smelled like the sweetest of sins was close by.

For a brief moment, Murtagh wondered how Ren smelled. Ren. He laughed bitterly. He had a son. _A son_. A human son at that. Murtagh threw Thorn’s phone into the air and caught it before throwing it up again. Perhaps there was something to what Thorn had said. At least Ren wouldn’t have to go through a vampiric adolescence. He would grow up to be a normal boy. Murtagh caught the phone on its way down. He wasn’t sure if he was jealous or pleased that Ren wouldn’t be like him.

The vampire licked his lips. He wondered what would happen now. He refused to stay in the same place, of course. Would Thorn come with him when he decided to take off? Murtagh doubted that he would. The phone spun as it was flipped into the air and was caught again. Thorn could be with Saphira now without having to worry about Murtagh attacking Saphira’s rider. Murtagh’s hand clenched around the phone.

He had lied. He was going to miss Thorn, but so be it. Murtagh could probably visit when he had to come and get blood. He wondered whether Vanir would continue to draw it, or if the job would be passed on to Thorn. If Thorn took over the job, then maybe they could find a place where they could meet.

Murtagh shook his head. Why was he thinking about this now? He wasn’t sure if he was going to survive his encounter with Formora. There was no reason to worry about the future then.

A soft sigh left him. There was an odd pang in his chest, something that he had felt once when he had been younger. It felt oddly like...longing. Murtagh looked down at the phone and flipped it open. He looked through the contact list and found the name he was looking for easily.

His thumb hovered over the call button. He was insane, he had to be. Why else was he doing what he was doing?

Someone picked up before Murtagh even registered that he had pressed the button.

 _“Thorn?”_ a yawn. _“Is something wrong?”_

Murtagh went over the words in his mind thoroughly. He had to be careful.

_“Thorn?”_

“Don’t hang up.”

It was silent. Then...

 _“What do you want?”_ the female voice asked darkly.

“I have a favour to ask,” Murtagh admitted.

 _“Why should I trust you?”_ Saphira hissed.

“You shouldn’t,” Murtagh drawled, “but I have a favour to ask of you anyway.”

He was sure he had lost her then. He shook his head and reminded himself never to get sentimental again. He had managed close to twelve years without feeling a speck of happiness. Why was today so different?

 _“I refuse to say that I’ll do it before you tell me what it is,”_ Saphira said coldly just as he was about to hang up. _“So let’s hear it.”_    
  
Murtagh smirked.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> **Andelan Vocabulary:**  
>  _Morthor_ – A swear word. Means "fuck"


	14. Heartbeat

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This chapter is a little later than I would have liked it to, but sadly I've struggled with my health and been under a lot of stress lately, meaning I've had little to no energy or time to edit and write with. I'm finally clawing my way back to the top, and finally was able to scramble together enough of both to get this out into the world. 
> 
> I want to thank everyone that's still reading this old thing. You guys are amazing.
> 
>  _-Speech.-_ Eragon/Saphira and Murtagh/Thorn talking to each other mentally.
> 
> No **Andelan** was used in this chapter.

_::February to March::_

Thorn only woke up when he felt the magic around the house shift. He let out a soft groan and sat up.

“Good morning, sleeping beauty. Or rather, good evening. It’s midnight,” Murtagh drawled.

Thorn cursed and sat up. Twelve hours? He had been asleep for twelve fucking hours?!

“Why the hell did you let me sleep for that long?!”

“You looked so adorable when you slept. I didn’t have the heart to wake you,” he teased.

Thorn flipped him off. Murtagh sniggered and left the room. Thorn hurriedly put on a pair of pants and walked into the living room. Vanir crocked an eyebrow when he saw his clothes.

“Yeah, whatever. What’s going on?” Thorn said and crossed his arms sourly.

“There has been no change since I left, but I still think you should leave as soon as possible,” Vanir said seriously. “We don’t know when she’ll be back.”

Thorn saw Murtagh stiffen.

“The next boat out of here leaves in the morning. We’ll take that one,” the hydra said and mentally started to think about what they had to pack.

 _Damn_ , it wasn’t as little as he had hoped.

“Are you sure you can be packed by then?” Vanir drawled.

“Sure,” Thorn pursed his lips. “You take the kitchen and we’ll take our personal stuff.”

Thorn turned around and stalked back into the bedroom. He only heard Vanir snort and quietly step into the kitchen. Murtagh, the damn light-footed bastard that he was, stepped in soundlessly.

Thorn found his bag under the bed and started to empty the two drawers he had before putting everything into the bag. The house was leased, he would just have to pay for the rest of the month and let the owners know they were leaving.

He finished folding the clothes when he found that something was missing. Thorn frowned. Where had he left his phone?

“Tag? Do you know where my phone is?”

Murtagh snorted. “Why should I know?”

Thorn paused. Murtagh was a sucker for details. He should have known. Unless Murtagh wanted to make Thorn think he didn’t know because he had done something with it. Thorn shook his head. He was over-thinking it. Murtagh had no one to call; it didn’t make sense for him to use it.

“Right,” the hydra said finally. “I’ll check the living room then.”

Murtagh didn’t reply.

Thorn glanced around in the room to find the damn thing. Why did it have to be so small?

“Where will you be staying this time?”

Thorn stopped searching underneath the couch cushions and looked up. Vanir was putting down a small cooling bag, though his eyes were firmly fixed on the hydra.

“I’m going to try to find a place closer to the Teller residence,” Thorn said and went back to search underneath the last cushion. “In case something happens, I don’t want to have to run for ten minutes to get there.”

Vanir let out a soft grunt.

“With all the commuting I’ve been doing, I’ve thought of finding a temporary place until this mess is over and done with,” he drawled.

Thorn paused. He set down the cushion and blinked up at the magician.

“What?” Vanir frowned.

“I’m surprised that you’ve thought about that, that’s all,” Thorn said and stood.

And it really was. Vanir hated to socialize, but Thorn had saved him once in the past and he and Murtagh were almost kindred spirits in their hate of the world, so they clicked somehow. Thorn had thought that when they went back, Vanir would drop everything and go back to his cosy cabin in Ceunon.

His face must have mirrored his thoughts, for Vanir’s frown turned into a scowl.

“I’m too deep into this now. Someone needs to be here to put Murtagh under if needed be. Teller can’t look after the kid and keep Murtagh in place at the same time,” Vanir drawled.

“That’s it?”

“What else?” Vanir asked with displeasure in his voice.

Thorn just shrugged.

“Your phone is over there, by the way,” the magician gestured to Thorn’s left before walking back into the kitchen.

Thorn blinked. Sometimes he really wondered if Vanir could read minds. He shook his head and was relieved when he did find his phone resting on the coffee-table, hidden just barely underneath a newspaper.

How it had gotten there, he had no idea. Then again, the last two days had been a huge mess. It was no wonder he was misplacing things. Thorn pocketed the phone and went back to packing.

**::OBSESSION::**

Eragon watched the chaos evolve around him. While he had been sleeping, Nasuada and Arya had apparently gotten a few things from their apartment and had moved into one of Brom’s many guestrooms. Brom had already cleared out one more for Vanir. Eragon was surprised to hear that the magician was staying, especially with them, but Brom had explained that it was best for Vanir to be with them in case Formora showed up. One and a half magicians were better than just an ex-rider with magic.

Eragon had to admit that he didn’t like the thought of Murtagh being in the same city as him again. Especially now that he had Ren. If Murtagh somehow found out about Ren, Eragon didn’t know what he would do.

His gaze shifted from the soft, but urgent conversation between Brom, Nasuada and Arya to Saphira. Saphira had been quiet when he had woken up. She had brushed off his questions, and that only worried Eragon more. What was going on?

It was around six in the evening that Saphira got the call. The whole room seemed to freeze as she picked up.

“Where are you?”

Eragon bit the nail on his right thumb. Saphira nodded her head and started to twirl a lock of hair around her index finger.

“When will you get here?” she was silent while she listened to Thorn reply. “Do you know where you’ll stay?”

Eragon wasn’t sure if Saphira’s slight frown was a good thing or not. Most likely it wasn’t.

“Call me when you get settled. Bye.”

“So?” Brom asked when she put the phone down.

“They’re on the bus from Teirm to Carvahall now,” the hydra sighed. “Thorn isn’t sure where they’ll stay, but Vanir apparently has a few places they can check out. They’ll be in Carvahall around midnight.”

Brom nodded sombrely.

Eragon looked away. They were coming. He looked down and stroked Ren’s cheek. The baby was awake and was sucking on his thumb.

“I guess I’ll be hiding in my room again,” Eragon said softly.

“From whom?”

Eragon wasn’t sure who had asked the question, but didn’t care.

“From Formora, or whatever her name was, and Murtagh,” he replied and looked up.

Saphira shifted in her seat. He sent her a confused look. Saphira just smiled. He became even more confused when Saphira and Brom exchanged looks. He was definitely missing something.

“There’s no need for you to hide. As long as you don’t step outside, you should be safe,” Brom said finally.

Something was seriously off. They wanted him to walk around with Ren when Murtagh was going to be separated by nothing more than a piece of fragile and highly breakable glass?

“What’s going on?” he asked with a frown.

“...Murtagh’s showing improvement,” Saphira said softly. “We think he’s past the homicidal stage.”

“Otherwise we wouldn’t have let him come, obviously,” Brom said gruffly.

That couldn’t be all.

“What aren’t you telling me?” Eragon asked suspiciously.

“Nothing,” Brom crocked an eyebrow.

But he wasn’t looking at his ex-teacher. Saphira looked up and for a second he saw the flicker of guilt in her eyes.

“...Okay,” he muttered.

He would find out the truth later.

**::OBSESSION::**

They arrived at the cottage just a few minutes past midnight. Thorn had arranged the place over the phone while they had been driving from Teirm to Carvahall. The rental agency had left the keys in the mailbox.

Murtagh could almost not believe that they were going to live legit during the sure-to-be long stay in Carvahall. Granted, he knew they had lived legit on Vroengard, but this was different. They hadn’t lived legit since his adolescence had kicked in.

Vanir helped them carry in what little they had. Murtagh already knew that Vanir was going to stay with the others, or ‘the bait’ as Murtagh liked to call them. But it was indeed truly strange for him to think of Vanir as social. Vanir was anything but social. But there he was; ready and willing to live with almost-strangers just to save one or two people from being maimed by a crazed vampire. It was almost enough to make him wonder if there was something else keeping the magician in the city.

Or maybe it was _someone_ else. Murtagh laughed to himself.

“What’s got you in such a good mood?” Thorn asked grumpily.

Murtagh could hardly blame him. The hydra had been up for twenty-four hours already.

“Nothing,” Murtagh smirked.

Thorn muttered curses under his breath as he stumbled into the bedroom. They were yet again forced to share rooms, but Murtagh had stopped caring long ago. The only thing that bothered him was the fact that Thorn could wake up while he was having a nightmare. He didn’t like to feel vulnerable, particularly when he had an audience.

“Are you going to be good?” Vanir asked sourly.

Murtagh draped himself over the couch. It smelled mouldy. Typical.

“Of course I will. You think so little of me,” the smirk widened.

“At least let me get to the manor before you decide to pop in and cause chaos,” Vanir sighed.

“Thorn’s already phoning his girlfriend to let her know we’re here. There’s no element of surprise to take advantage of,” Murtagh shrugged.

Vanir rolled his eyes.

“Whatever, freak. I’ll stop by in a few days,” he said, turned around and walked right out of the cottage.

Murtagh tsk’ed softly. He let out a soft yawn before looking around in the room. It looked like a mix between the house at Vroengard and the shack they had taken refuge in during their last visit.

Murtagh lay down and closed his eyes. He couldn’t feel a protective shield around the cottage, meaning that Vanir had either forgotten or had already talked to Thorn about leaving it down. It meant that he was free to roam wherever he wished. Thorn had probably hoped he’d only roam when he needed to save Teller and Co’s asses, but even Murtagh liked to have fun every once in a while. Of course, the fact that Formora could be close by, maybe even too close by, put a huge damper on his good mood.

The vampire crossed his arms under his head and took a deep breath. He supposed Vanir would have some sort of guard schedule for him when he came back. Murtagh was expected to be the faithful guard dog and look after the nice good guys. Murtagh snorted. Granted, he wanted to be there, for more reasons than just one, but something else was bugging him.

Protecting Eragon could be the last thing he did. And so he wanted to make sure he’d live what was rest of his life without any regrets.

**::OBSESSION::**

Saphira fingered the curtain as she stared aimlessly out of the window. It was close to one in the morning, but she wasn’t tired. How could she sleep when all she could think about was this vicious bitch that was after Eragon and Ren? Every fibre in her being screamed to go out there and hunt her down, but she knew she had to stay. Eragon needed her more.

She sighed. There was another reason she couldn’t sleep. Murtagh. He and Thorn were back in Carvahall, and even though she knew it was a good thing in the long run, she was worried. Murtagh strange request worried her. He would demand an answer from her soon, and Saphira honestly didn’t know what to say. On one hand, how could she deny him his request? But then again, how could she go behind everyone she loved by doing him that favour?

“Why are you up this late?” a tired voice asked her.

Saphira turned around. A very tired Aksel met her eyes. She smiled amusedly.

“I could ask you the same.”

“My ‘Vanir senses’ are tingling,” he drawled, apparently awake enough to use quotation marks despite the late hour.

“Oh, so he’s near?” Saphira pulled the curtain back in place.

Aksel nodded as he stifled a yawn.

“And when I saw that you were awake, I thought I’d stop by,” he said and sat down.

“Not because you wanted to welcome our guest, hm?” she smirked.

Aksel scowled at her, though the blush ruined it.

“Hey, how are you handling this?” Saphira asked with a soft frown. “Murtagh being back and all that...”

“Well, Vanir said he doesn’t want to kill me anymore, so...” the blond shrugged awkwardly.

“That doesn’t mean that you automatically have to like his presence,” Saphira murmured.

“Hell no! I hate it,” the chimera shuddered. “He can go and fuck himself for all I care! But...you know, Ren and this whole mess...”

“It’s best to have him near.”

Aksel nodded.

“Murtagh’s not going to court Eragon,” Saphira blurted out, not quite sure what had driven her do to just that.

The blond looked thoroughly surprised.

“But he was all ‘he’s mine, bitches,'” Aksel blinked.

“Apparently that’s just how far he wants to take the bond,” the hydra sighed. “He’s signed up to be Eragon’s protector, but nothing else.”

“That so doesn’t make sense.”

“In Murtagh’s world it does.”

Saphira grinned softly. Either someone had let him in without her noticing it, or he had gotten a key before he had gone back to Murtagh and Thorn, for he had entered noiselessly. And the shocked look on Aksel’s face would stay on her mind forever.

“Vanir,” she said softly.

The magician nodded back. Aksel waved awkwardly. Saphira was tempted to giggle.

“What did you mean by that?” she asked.

Vanir sighed. Beside her, Aksel shifted.

“I’m sure Thorn filled you in on my repressed-procreation theory, which I believe to be the main reason,” Vanir drawled. “Then there’s the thing that Murtagh doesn’t believe he’ll make it out of this alive.”

“Eh?!”

Saphira shook her head. Aksel never knew how to be subtle. The fact that he was half elf was therefore quite ironic.

“He killed his father when Morzan was at his weakest,” Vanir explained. “Kialandi was apparently a lucky shot. He surprised her. Formora is going to be ready for him. Murtagh isn’t sure he’ll survive his encounter with her. All he’s sure of is that if he’s going down, then he’s going to take her down with him.”

Saphira bit her lip. Suddenly Murtagh’s request made a lot more sense.

“He hasn’t told me this, but it’s glaringly obvious,” the magician snorted.

“When Thorn said Murtagh wasn’t going to court Eragon, I just assumed it was because Murtagh didn’t care for him.”

Vanir crocked an eyebrow.

“Right now he doesn’t, if you exclude his will to fuck him senseless.”

Aksel choked. Saphira was tempted to do the same.

“So it’s purely sexual to Murtagh?” Saphira asked a little hesitantly.

“Like I said, right now it is,” Vanir tsk’ed. “But if Murtagh let himself, he would fall for the kid.”

“And it will take a miracle for Eragon to do the same,” she sighed.

“I dunno,” Aksel muttered.

“What?” she turned to stare at him in shock.

“I mean, he obviously doesn’t want Murtagh anywhere near him and Ren, but...he’s feeling guilty. You know, for keeping Ren from Murtagh,” the chimera shrugged. “I’m just sayin’ that if Murtagh showed him a kinder side, maybe...”

“Murtagh doesn’t have a kinder side,” Vanir drawled.

“He didn’t kill me,” Aksel objected. “And he didn’t kill Eragon either, even though he’s had plenty of chances.”  
  
“You’re defending him?” Saphira blinked.

“I guess so.” Aksel grinned sheepishly. “Never thought I’d do it, but...yeah, I guess I am.”

Vanir crossed his arms and crocked an eyebrow. Saphira enjoyed the soft blush that brought to Aksel’s cheeks.

“I mean, they guy’s willing to take down a crazy chick for Eragon’s sake. That’s gotta give him some points,” the blond narrowed his eyes.

“He has wanted to take her down for quite some time,” Vanir shrugged.

“I get it. You wanna keep our heads out of the sky, or else he might bite us in the ass when we least expect it.”

Saphira watched them interact, feeling more than a little amused. Even though she had something to say herself, she wasn’t willing to betray Murtagh like that. He had swallowed his pride enough to ask her of a favour, and even if she wasn’t sure if she was going to help him or not, Saphira wasn’t going to tell anyone.

“I seriously don’t get that dude,” Aksel was saying as Saphira tuned back in on the conversation. “I mean, he almost...you know...me because of ‘Agon, and he still thinks he just wants to bang his brains out?”

“We already established that, Aksel,” Saphira said softly.

“I mean, he wants to bang them out _all the time_ ,” Aksel snorted. “Derr.”

“Never assume, Aksel,” the hydra sighed.

“I’m just sayin’...” he pouted.

“It’s never that easy with Murtagh,” Vanir said gruffly.

“Maybe that’s just what he wants ya to believe,” Aksel lifted both of his eyebrows.

“And here I thought you didn’t want to talk about him,” Saphira murmured.

“Well, with Eragon and all that jazz, I kinda have to get used to it,” the chimera shrugged. “No time like the present, yeah?”

“Hn,” Vanir suddenly frowned. “That reminds me, I need to figure out when he’s going to stand guard. During the night would probably be best. That’s most likely when she’ll strike, too.”

“Have you been installed in your room, yet?” Saphira asked, feeling a little ashamed that she had forgotten to ask earlier.

“Yes. Arya let me in and gracefully helped me,” Vanir snorted.

Saphira laughed. Gracefully, right. She looked over at Aksel and paused. The blond looked awfully pale. It took a second before it clicked. Ah, he was afraid that Arya might have let something ‘accidentally slip’. She looked at him and shook her head. Arya would never do that.

Aksel shrugged sheepishly. Then again, with the female elf, you never knew for sure.

“She’ll doubtfully attack tonight. And with all the travelling you’ve been doing, you should go to sleep,” Saphira said kindly.

Vanir nodded. His gaze flickered to Aksel before he turned around and left. Saphira spent the next few minutes trying to smother her giggles as Aksel stalked out of the room in a huff, though the blush was still lighting up his face quite nicely.

**::OBSESSION::**

Eragon was scowling as he fed Ren. When he had gotten up that morning, he had nearly gotten a heart-attack. He had walked into the kitchen and had set down the baby basket, Ren cooing slightly inside of it. When he had then walked to get a bottle of milk out of the fridge, he had seen a dark figure at the kitchen-table and had jolted. The bottle had fallen from his hand, but before he could scream ‘vampire’, Arya had glided in and said hello to Vanir.

Vanir. Damn dark-haired magician. Eragon’s scowl deepened. Arya had spent the following ten minutes laughing quietly at him. He could have survived that, hadn’t Aksel stumbled in and asked what was going on. It was now an hour later and Aksel still wouldn’t stop laughing.

“Leave him alone, Aksel,” Saphira sighed. “We should have reacted if Eragon had run up and kissed Vanir on the mouth because he thought it was our favourite vampire. Jumping is the right way for him to react.”

Eragon gave Saphira a relieved smile. She winked back.

Aksel smothered his last chuckle and shrugged. Saphira narrowed her eyes at him minutely. Apparently that had meant something else, because Aksel suddenly zipped his mouth shut and looked away. Eragon didn’t know what to think of his friends anymore. He didn’t know who wasn’t keeping anything from him anymore.

“Where are they stationed?” Brom asked gruffly.

Eragon put down the bottle and lifted Ren up to lay against his chest, Ren’s head over his shoulder. Then Eragon started to rock him softly.

Vanir seemed to wake up from his slight trance. Eragon blinked when he noticed that Vanir’s eyes faded from aqua to ice-blue. The magician must have been doing something magical.

“About five minutes away on foot,” Vanir replied. “That’s approximately sixty seconds away if they run.”

The brunet shuddered. That was a double-edged blade if he had ever heard of one.

Brom nodded gravely. Eragon met Saphira’s eyes. He couldn’t blame her for looking alarmed and happy at once.

“And when will he be...patrolling?” Brom asked, obviously feeling a little hesitant about what word to use.

“From six PM to six AM,” Vanir crossed his arms. “I clarified it with them by phone earlier this morning. He’ll be starting tonight.”

“He’ll be here every night?” Saphira frowned.

Arya did not look pleased. Nasuada laid a hand on her arms and murmured something in the elf’s ear. Arya murmured something back, but didn’t look comforted at all.

“He insists upon it,” the magician drawled.

Eragon hugged Ren closer to him. The baby finally burped, and Eragon swiftly wiped his mouth before putting him down into his basket.

“So he’ll just be here until this other demon is gone?” Arya asked sourly.

Eragon felt himself stiffen. He wasn’t quite sure why.

“Arya,” Nasuada scolded.

“It’s what he is!”

“Just cos he attacked me, sis? Give him a chance,” Aksel said uncharacteristically sombre.

“Who are you and what have done with my brother?” Arya breathed.

“He’s growin’ up, I suppose. Just, just give him a chance.”

Eragon sat down so he could keep an eye on his son and one on the conversation.

“What’s going on?” Arya asked, her mouth looking uncharacteristically thin. “Is this because of -?”

“No!” Aksel interrupted. “No. I just think that there’s more to this.”

“Brom, what’s going on here?” the female elf nearly hissed. “What don’t I know? What doesn’t _Eragon_ know?!”

Eragon stiffened. He had tried not to partake in the conversation, and to suddenly feel everyone’s eyes on him made him feel uncomfortable.

Brom cleared his throat. Eragon felt himself sag in relief when everyone turned their attention to the old man.

“Murtagh is past the homicidal stage, as Eragon should already know,” Brom folded his hands before he continued. “What he doesn’t know is that Murtagh is way past that stage.”

His heart skipped a beat.

“What?” Arya hissed.

“Saphira informed me of the conversation that took place upon Vanir’s arrival, and I find myself agreeing,” the older man’s eyes narrowed. “It’s time that you all know what’s going on, even if those people are just Arya, Nasuada and Eragon.”

Eragon sucked in a breath. It hurt.

“Murtagh has sworn not to harm anyone but Formora.”

Had he been standing, he would have stumbled in shock.

“He has also informed Vanir and Thorn of his intentions with Eragon, and they believe him,” Brom pursed his lips. “He will not be courting you, boy.”

“What?” Eragon choked.

“He thinks he won’t live to see the end of this battle, therefore he won’t make a formal claim on you,” Vanir clarified.

Eragon couldn’t believe what he was hearing. He also couldn’t believe he hadn’t thought of it before. He had been so consumed by the thought that if Murtagh found out about Ren and their bond, they’d be dead. He had never thought to wonder what would happen if he didn’t want to kill them when he found out.

“So he moved from suicidal and homicidal to just suicidal?” Eragon asked meekly, not really sure why he was talking.

“Something like that,” Brom nodded.

Arya sat down slowly. Eragon watched blankly as Nasuada spoke quietly to her. Arya shook her head mutely. Vanir’s lips were thin as he stared at the wall. Aksel looked a little confused while Brom was watching everyone with a look of understanding.

Saphira padded over to him. She smiled sadly.

“I don’t understand,” Eragon whispered.

“I don’t either,” Arya spoke up. “I never cared about the vampire, but now I find myself wishing to know his reasons. He’s giving up. Why?”

“Everyone always called him the most dangerous vampire of the present time. No one ever said he was the strongest,” Brom spoke sombrely. “True, he has the genes on his side, but Formora has the element of surprise and strength on hers.”

“And mating is not the same for vampires and elves,” Vanir looked almost piercingly at Arya. “Elves as a specie cannot imagine not being with their other half. Vampires live to hate their mate. Of course, the ones that do come over that ridiculous state of mind want to be with their other half. Murtagh is not quite there yet, and he refuses to get there. He thinks he’s going to die, so why start living now?”

“That’s bullshit!” Aksel spluttered.

“Didn’t you get me last night?” Vanir drawled.

“Sure I did, but not to that extent,” Aksel frowned. “That’s why he doesn’t wanna...?”

Vanir nodded.

Saphira forced Eragon to meet her gaze.

_-I’m sorry we didn’t tell you earlier, but we only just found out his reasons last night.-_

_-But, I don’t...-_

_-We don’t completely understand either, Eragon. But in case things did go badly, we didn’t want to tell you,-_ Saphira said sadly.

 _-This is what you’ve been keeping from me. Just this?-_ he asked.

Saphira nodded.

“It would have been better if you just told me,” he said and stood. “I-I need to lie down.”

He grabbed Ren and stumbled out of the room before anyone could stop him. He clenched his teeth together and tried to keep his feelings at bay. He couldn’t understand why he was feeling so upset. It was good news, in a way.

Then why the fuck was he feeling so upset?

**::OBSESSION::**

The night had fallen. Eragon had only come out of his room to eat or feed Ren. Saphira hadn’t stopped blaming herself since he had left.

She had lied to him, but there was nothing else she could do. No one else knew of Murtagh’s phone call, and no one else could. This was her burden and hers alone. Not even Thorn could find out. And she needed to tell Murtagh her answer soon. She had finally made up her mind.

Saphira looked at the other people that were seated in the living room with her. Arya and Vanir had been locked in a quiet conversation for the past three hours. She couldn’t blame Arya for being confused. Her whole world revolved around Nasuada. She couldn’t understand why it wasn’t the same for Murtagh.

If she had had a mate, Saphira supposed she would have been unable to understand it herself. But there was no one else that could explain it as well as Vanir could. He knew Murtagh, after all.

Nasuada was due back from work soon. Even though they had unofficially moved into Brom’s house, they still had to go to work. Brom had come back a half hour ago, and had been seated by her side since. He wanted to see Murtagh when he came, for different reasons than her own. Or at least, so Saphira hoped.

Aksel had wandered off somewhere, and Saphira wasn’t sure where he had ended up. Most likely he was either in his room or with Eragon.

Saphira sighed and went back to look out of the glass doors. Brom had pulled the curtains aside when he had gotten back. He literally wanted to see Murtagh arrive. Saphira stiffened when the clock struck six behind them. Arya and Vanir continued to talk quietly in _Andelan_ , but she and Brom sat up straight.

She saw him the second he arrived. Had she blinked, she would have missed him run across the lawn and leap up to sit down on the railing. He glanced at them out of the corner of his eye before glaring back into the night.

“He has arrived,” Vanir piped up suddenly.

Due to the force-field he and Brom had laid around the house earlier that day, Saphira didn’t bother to question how he knew. It was obvious. The shield wasn’t simply meant to keep certain people out, but to recognize them as well.

Brom stood and threw the doors open. Saphira shivered slightly as the cold air seeped into the room. She padded out after him.

“Will you hold your promise?” Brom asked roughly.

Murtagh shifted and turned his head. Saphira wasn’t sure why his startling hazel eyes scared her so.

“I will.”

Brom nodded and stalked back inside. Saphira met his gaze as he walked past her. She moved to close the doors when Murtagh suddenly looked at her. _Later,_ she mouthed and closed the doors. Murtagh didn’t even blink as he turned away again.

Saphira spent the next four hours staring into the distance. During this time, Arya and Vanir had somehow come to an agreement and Nasuada had dragged her to bed. Vanir had walked out shortly after them. Aksel had shown up, proclaiming that Eragon felt a little better, but that he was still confused. Saphira made a note to check up on him later. Then the chimera had wandered off again. Brom was the last to leave. He had given her a sharp look, though she wasn’t sure what it meant. Then she had been alone.

Saphira took a deep breath and stood. She pulled on the thick sweater she had brought out from her room and walked out onto the terrace.

Murtagh sat in the same spot. Saphira closed the doors behind her softly. That was when she noticed how lightly dressed he was. There was no jacket to protect him from the cold, no gloves or cap to protect his fingers or ears. And yet there was no shiver. Hadn’t she known better, she could have mistaken him for a statue.

“So?” he drawled.

The hydra narrowed her eyes. Murtagh grasped onto one of the pillars holding up the roof over the terrace and jumped down.

“It’s not an easy thing you’re asking of me,” Saphira said coldly.

Murtagh slipped his hands into his pockets and leaned onto the pillar.

“I know,” he said simply.

“Either I deny you one of your basic rights, or I betray my friends and family,” she shook her head. “Though I understand why you asked me. Anyone else would have turned you down in a heartbeat.”

Murtagh didn’t even blink.

“Vanir...he told us something earlier.”

“I figured he might,” Murtagh tilted his head.

“You’re not going to court Eragon, and yet you ask this of me?” Saphira breathed. “I don’t get you.”

He didn’t comment.

“Do you really think that you won’t survive the fight with her?” Saphira found herself asking.

Murtagh’s lips thinned.

“It’s a possibility.”

“Is that why...?” she trailed off.

“Does it matter?” he scoffed. “Will you do it or not?”

Saphira bit her lip. She looked away, her eyes scanning the living room behind her. It was still empty.

“I...” she sighed and turned to face him head on. “I will. I don’t understand your reasons or your motivation, but I will.”

Something flickered in his eyes, but it was gone too fast for her to make out what it had been. He gave her a quick nod before looking back out into the night.

Saphira turned around and walked back inside. As she closed the doors, she told herself that she was doing the right thing. Even if she was betraying Eragon’s wishes, she was doing _the right thing_. Who was she to deny a father’s simple wish to hold his own child?

**::OBSESSION::**

Eragon had not slept well that night. He had woken up in the morning, scared to death that Murtagh had killed Ren and was coming for him next. Needless to say, he had spent ten minutes holding Ren tightly to his chest before he had been able to calm down.

It wasn’t until an hour after he had woken up that he dared to walk outside. Ren’s fussing also pushed him to get his ass out of the room and find some food.

“There you are,” Saphira smiled at him as he entered the kitchen. “We were wondering when you were going to show yourself.”

Eragon just shrugged. He got a bottle out of the fridge and put it onto the counter.

“Let me,” Saphira sighed and ushered him towards the chairs. “You look like you’ve been through hell.”

He didn’t protest as Saphira found a pot, poured water into it and turned the stove on. She then leaned against the counter, narrowing her eyes calculatingly at him.

“What’s up?”

Eragon held Ren against his shoulder and rubbed the baby’s back softly. Ren was hungry alright.

“Nothing. I just had a bad dream,” Eragon gave a half-smile.

Saphira’s eyes narrowed even further.

“Murtagh?”

He shrugged in answer. They both knew that the vampire was the only thing he had nightmares about.

“He’s here for your sake,” she said softly. “To protect you two.”

Eragon sighed. He froze when he thought back to what she had said. You _two_? Saphira’s eyes flew wide open when she realised what she had said too.

“He knows?” Eragon hissed.

Saphira practically jumped over the four steps that were separating them and grasped the shoulder Ren wasn’t cradled against.

“He found out on his own. No one told him,” she whispered urgently.

“How?!”

“The hospital records are online, and apparently he has some hacker skills,” the hydra explained quietly.

“Fa-” Eragon cut himself off.

He was not going to curse in front of his own son.

“Focus, Eragon. You know he isn’t going to do anything to harm you or to get close to you,” the blue haired girl bit her lip.

“This is what you’ve been hiding from me?!” he hissed accusingly.

“We didn’t want to alarm you,” Saphira gazed at him sadly.

“Didn’t want to -?!” he spluttered.

“You can’t leave anymore, you know that. And Murtagh has no intention of ever getting close to you or Ren,” somehow saying this seemed to sadden her even more. “Just don’t freak out and let him protect you.”

“I should go out there and beat him to pulp!”

Saphira gently took Ren from him and put him down in the baby basket. Then she walked back to the stove, turned the heater down and put the bottle into the water.

“You should have done so the second time you met him. You should do so now, even. But he’s here on his own account to make sure no harm is inflicted upon you,” she turned to face him again. “I’m not saying that I like him or have forgiven him, but...if he’s willing to protect you when I possibly cannot, then I’m willing to let him.”

Eragon stared at her in surprise. She didn’t think she could face a vampire and take them down? But hadn’t she always said -?

“I know that I’ve always said that if it came to it, I would protect you with my life,” Saphira bit her lip. “I’m still willing to do that. But things have changed. You have a mate now. Therefore my job is to be his backup.”

“But Saphira -” he breathed.

“Should he turn on you, I will kill him in a heartbeat,” she said firmly. “But until he does that, I’m going to let him do his job.”

“We’re not mates!” he protested.

“Not formally, no,” she shook her head. “But you are bonded. He can only feed from you, only have children with you. The only thing that’s missing is for him to formally claim you. But we both know that’s not going to happen.”

“Only have children with me?!” Eragon choked.

Saphira smiled sadly.

“He can only have human children with you. If I were to guess, if this had been a less messed up situation, he’d only want to have kids with you. Murtagh is completely unwilling to continue his vampiric bloodline. If he wanted to be a father, you would be his only chance.”

Eragon blinked. That made sense. But why was she bringing that up? Well, technically he had brought it up, but...

Saphira suddenly turned around and pulled the bottle out of the water. She let a few drops of milk fall onto her forearm and nodded.

“Here. Now feed the little tyke.”

Eragon took the bottle. He lifted Ren into his arms and put the tip to his son’s mouth. He smiled when Ren started to suck.

“I know you hate him,” Eragon looked up at Saphira’s words. “But please, just let him protect you.”

Eragon sighed. He guessed he had no other choice.

**::OBSESSION::**

It had been two weeks, and the bitch still hadn’t returned. Murtagh glared out into the dark March night. It was typical that he would be wasting his time babysitting the good guys.

Murtagh sat on his favourite spot, leaning against one of the pillars while he sat on the railing. One of his legs was perched on top of the railing while the other hung limply. He crossed his arms and shifted into a more comfortable position.

Despite it now being March, it was still snowing and cold; not that he could feel the cold. The jacket he wore was only for show. He wore boots simply because they would give him leverage should Formora decide to show up. If he got in a kick; it would send her further back, if he needed to run; he would have a better grip on the ground and get more speed.

He had to admit that it was boring to sit there for twelve hours straight. He walked around the house every hour, so he didn’t sit completely still the entire time. It was boring nonetheless.

He tipped his head back and sighed. He thought back to his conversation with Saphira. He was shocked that she had agreed. She probably thought it was his dying wish or something. While it kind of was, he hated to be pitied.

His ear twitched when he heard Thorn’s familiar laugh. Thorn had been spending a lot of time with Saphira, and Murtagh didn’t really want to know what they were doing. Even though he knew it was too soon for them to be fucking, seeing as Thorn actually was a gentleman, he didn’t want to know. They were happy with their soon-to-be mates, and that was more than he wanted to know.

Murtagh searched the rest of the house. The hydras were in the living room with the old man and someone else. It felt like a magician, but it wasn’t Vanir. Strange. The female elf and her mate were in what Murtagh presumed to be their room. The chimera was with Eragon of all people. And with Eragon was Ren; their son. Vanir wasn’t present. Murtagh checked the skies. A full moon looked back at him. Vanir was probably out getting a few herbs, either by collecting them himself or buying them.

_-Are you bored yet?-_

Murtagh groaned out loud. Why couldn’t Thorn leave him alone?

_-Yes, I am. Now go away.-_

_-Are you sure you wouldn’t like some company?-_ Thorn drawled.

 _-I am very, very sure,-_ Murtagh replied likewise.

When the door opened two seconds later, he had to force himself not to groan and snap at Thorn.

“I wanted to check on you.”

But it wasn’t Thorn. Murtagh turned his head around and crocked an eyebrow at his visitor.

“I’ve been thinking, and I think I know when I can pull it off,” Saphira said softly. “Aksel has been seeking advice from Eragon a lot, so tomorrow I offered to take Ren for a while. Brom has a late meeting at the college and Vanir said he wouldn’t be back for another two days. I’ll let you in when it’s time.”

Already?

“Thorn even has some errands to run, and Arya and Nasuada both need to work late. Tomorrow is the only day I think it’ll work. I realise it’s very sudden, but -”

“Tomorrow’s fine,” he interrupted.

Saphira closed her mouth. She nodded and her hands tightened their grip around the blanket she was carrying.

“I know you can’t feel the cold, but I needed an excuse to step outside,” she shrugged. “I’ll see you tomorrow.”

He nodded. Saphira nodded back and slipped back inside.

Murtagh shifted back into his earlier position and gazed back into the night. Had there been someone there to witness it, they might have caught the hint of a smile grazing his lips before it was gone.

**::OBSESSION::**

Murtagh arrived at six, but did not sit down in his usual place. He rather found a spot where it could look like he was scouting when he really was watching the happenings inside the living room.

Brom was already gone, and Vanir hadn’t come back yet. Thorn had arrived with Murtagh and was now talking quietly with Saphira. Arya and Nasuada, though Murtagh didn’t know which female carried which name, had left the room the minute Thorn had arrived. The chimera had nearly stumbled upon the scene, but had turned on his heel and had left again.

Murtagh was getting tired of watching them, but he needed to know when it was time. He looked away when Thorn leaned down. He was not in the mood to watch them swap saliva.

He felt more than he saw Thorn leave. Murtagh knew he wouldn’t be gone long and looked back. The chimera had come back and was talking nervously with Saphira. He seemed to be rubbing the back of his neck a lot. Something was obviously making him nervous, and Murtagh doubted it was because he was close by.

Murtagh felt Eragon come closer, and he obviously had Ren with him, judging by the smaller beating heart next to Eragon’s. He slipped out of view.

It had been ages since Murtagh had seen Eragon. Even when he had started to guard the house, he hadn’t laid eyes on the brunet. It wasn’t that he was afraid of Eragon, far from it. He just didn’t want to look at him. Nothing was going to happen between them, and he was giving into the bond enough by asking to hold their son. That was as far as he was going to go. Eragon hated him, he hated Eragon...it all added up.

He was so lost in his own thoughts that he nearly jumped when someone spoke his name. He looked up.

“Are you coming?” Saphira murmured.

Murtagh nodded. She held the door open for him as he slipped inside.

It felt really weird to be inside Brom Teller’s home. It felt weird to be inside a home, period. The places he had lived in before couldn’t be called homes; they were temporary sleeping locations. Vanir’s house was just a house, a place where the magician worked and slept in. That didn’t feel like a home either. Teller’s place did, even if he too had lived alone most of his life.

He thought he heard Saphira speak, but couldn’t hear what she was saying. His eyes were drinking in the room. He could see the kitchen and the two doors that separated the two ‘wings’ of the house. The door to Murtagh’s right was only partially closed.

Murtagh turned back to look at the female hydra when his eyes caught look of something else. He froze. It was a painting of his father. What was that doing in Teller’s home? In his _living room_ of all places?

Maybe his theory of what had gone on between his father and Teller hadn’t been so far off?

“Murtagh!”

He blinked. He looked at her and crocked an eyebrow.

“We don’t have much time,” Saphira said sternly. “Do you want to do this or not?”

Murtagh just nodded his head. Saphira narrowed her eyes and bent down. Murtagh hadn’t even noticed they had moved over to the couches. The painting was staring straight at him from the other side of the room. For a split second he wondered if Teller had a painting of him too.

“Here he is.”

Murtagh shook himself back to the present. He looked back at Saphira and froze for the second time that day. There, in Saphira’s arms, lay his son. The dream flashed before his eyes. The same dark brown eyes, Eragon’s eyes, and the few strands of dark hair that Murtagh knew would grow long and slightly curly. It was the same boy.

“Hold out your arms,” Saphira instructed.

Murtagh did so.

“No, like you’re cradling something,” she shook her head.

Murtagh did as told. He felt like a bloody idiot when he did it too. Saphira nodded and motioned for him to lift his arms slightly. He scowled, but complied. Then she smiled and laid the baby in his arms.

Murtagh blinked. Ren was awake and was staring up at him unblinkingly. He had thought children at his age couldn’t focus their eyes that well. The baby blinked and made a gurgling sound. Apparently this was a good thing, because Saphira let out a relieved breath.

“You need to support his head more.”

The vampire glared at her, but did as told. Ren smacked his mouth and made another gurgling sound. Murtagh looked down and to his surprise could feel his glare softening. It was a very unsettling feeling.

“I think he likes you,” Saphira murmured.

“Hn.”

While that was a relief, it didn’t exactly sit well with him. Ren was going to grow up without his father, so in theory it would have been better if the baby had hated him. It would have been easier to walk away.

Murtagh snorted. He made it sound like he was abandoning the kid when he was just going out to possibly die. Alright, so maybe it was the same. But that didn’t explain why it felt weird. It almost felt like he didn’t want to leave, which was ridiculous. He didn’t want a family, and he certainly didn’t want kids. He was relieved that Eragon wanted nothing to do with him.

He winced at a sudden tugging sensation. He glared down and found himself staring into Ren’s eyes. The baby had gotten a good grip on his hair and was tugging at it. Murtagh scowled.

“He likes to do that,” Saphira commented.

“Well, he can stop doing it now,” Murtagh’s scowl deepened.

Saphira smiled sheepishly. Murtagh uncurled Ren’s fingers from his hair and gave him back to Saphira. Then everything fell apart.

“What’s he doing here?!”

Murtagh closed his eyes and cursed.


	15. Rising Storms

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This chapter is tragically late because I have been having issues getting internet at my new place. Hopefully I will have that situation sorted shortly so I can carry on updating the rest of this story.
> 
>  _-Speech.-_ Eragon/Saphira talking to each other mentally.
> 
> No **Andelan** was used in this chapter.
> 
>  _Drawn_ is an interlude/companion piece to this chapter. _Drawn_ a deeper look into Aksel and Vanir's relationship, written from Aksel's POV. Their relationship, much like Nasuada and Arya's relationship, is not at the front and center in the main stories because I had enough with Eragon/Murtagh and Saphira/Thorn without trying to flesh out the other relationships in _Haunted/Obsession/Stalked_. But hey, that's what side-stories are for. ;) It takes place in-between scenes late in this chapter and will be posted shortly, so you can read that and be all caught up before chapter sixteen if you so wish. :)

_::March::_

“Aksel, what are you so worried about?” Eragon frowned.

Aksel shrugged. They had just come back from the living room, where Saphira was now watching over Ren. Eragon wasn’t sure why she wanted to have him in there. Her room was more private and further away from prying vampire eyes. But since this was probably a conversation that Ren shouldn’t overhear, even if he was only two months old, Eragon forced himself to push those thoughts away.

“Aksel.”

“It’s just, he lives here now, and...” Aksel scowled, though it looked more like a pout than anything else.

Eragon shook his head. He sat down cross-legged on his bed and motioned for Aksel to follow his example. The blond sat down, still pouting.

“You’re afraid he’ll notice?” Eragon tilted his head.

Aksel nodded furiously.

The guy they were talking about was obviously Vanir. Eragon rolled his eyes. Aksel was truly impossible. It therefore made sense for him to fall for someone equally impossible.

“So? What’s the worst that could happen?” he drawled.

“He can turn me into a bug and squash me?” Aksel grinned obnoxiously.

“I take back what I said about you being smart,” the brunet shook his head.

Aksel narrowed his eyes. “You’re mean.”

Eragon shrugged.

Aksel started to examine his nails very closely. Eragon wanted to sweatdrop. He sighed.

“I think you should just kiss him.”  
  
The chimera’s head snapped up. His green eyes were wide with shock. “What?!” he squeaked.

Eragon laughed.

“Well, that is the best way to let him know how you feel,” the brunet shrugged.

“And what if I don’t want him to know?” Aksel spluttered.

“Then you’re an idiot,” Eragon rolled his eyes. “It can’t be that impossible -”

“But it is!”

Eragon wanted to strangle him.

“If you don’t ask, you’ll never know,” he said deadpanned.

Aksel shrugged. Eragon pinched the bridge of his nose.

“What was it you wanted to talk to me about, exactly? Since you seem to have this so nicely figured out...” he crocked an eyebrow.

Aksel opened his mouth, but shut it two seconds later. He frowned.

“I don’t know,” the chimera muttered.

“It’s not like I’m a love expert,” Eragon bit his lip. “That’s anyone but me.”

Aksel seemed to find his shoes very interesting all of a sudden.

“Aksel.”

“I didn’t know who else to talk to,” the blond muttered in defeat. “Saphira’s busy being courted, I’d never talk to the old man and Arya wants me to go ahead, but it was different for her. I just...I figured I was more on equal level if I talked to you.”

Eragon blinked. This was not the Aksel he was used to talking to. Aksel looked up and grinned sheepishly.

“I just...I’m scared, you know,” Aksel said softly. “I don’t want my heart broken either.”

“I have to say that you fell for him very suddenly...” Eragon commented.

“Love at first sight?” Aksel joked. “Eh, I don’t know. I just saw him and I kinda knew he was the one.”

“Then where does all this doubt come from?”

“My human genes?”

That made sense. Eragon shrugged.

“I still think you should go ahead,” the brunet repeated. “Better to have loved and lost, right?”

Aksel winced. Eragon thought he muttered an affirmative, but he couldn’t be sure. It had sounded more like a curse.

Aksel stood and thanked him. Eragon just grinned.

“So, where are you heading now?” Eragon asked and checked the time.

Maybe it was time he got back to Ren. The baby was due to start screaming for food soon.

“I dunno,” Aksel shrugged. “Off to proclaim my undying love to a stick-in-the-mud?”

Eragon laughed softly.

“Mind if I join you?” Eragon teased and walked out beside him.

Aksel’s deadpanned look answered for him.

“Say, I have a question,” Eragon tilted his head. “Are you submissive or not?”

The blond blushed.

“Shut up,” he sulked.

“What? I’m genuinely curious!”

“I don’t know, alright?!” Aksel exclaimed. “There are times I think I am, and there are times when I think I’m not. It’s very confusing.”

“Maybe that’s why you don’t know what to do?” Eragon slipped his hands into his pockets. “You don’t know what role you would have in your relationship, so you don’t know whether you should approach him or not?”

“Maybe,” Aksel muttered and pushed the door open to the living room. “If that’s it, though, it sucks.”

Eragon nodded his head. He opened his mouth to speak when his eyes took in the rest of the room before him.

“What’s he doing here?!”

**::OBSESSION::**

Saphira heard Murtagh curse. She had to agree with him there. How could she not have sensed Eragon coming?!

She turned to face Eragon when she saw Murtagh fly out the way he had come. Had she blinked then, she would have missed it. He truly was fast.

“Eragon, don’t freak out,” she said softly. “It’s not what it looks like.”

“Not what it looks like!?” Eragon spluttered. “How is it not what it looks like?!?”

Damn cowardly vampire, leaving her alone to deal with Eragon. Then again, he had done the right thing. Eragon would have skinned him had he stayed.

“If you could just let me explain -”

“There’s nothing to explain,” Eragon growled. “I’m going to kill him!”

Saphira blinked. That was not the reaction she had expected. She made a mental note to think about his reaction later. She put Ren down in his basket, motioned for Aksel to take care of him, and managed to stop Eragon from walking outside just in time.

“Please, just let me explain,” she begged.

Eragon glared at her in disbelief, but didn’t move.

Saphira bit her lip. What to tell him? She wasn’t sure how he would react if she told him the truth. Even though he knew that Murtagh knew everything about Ren, she doubted Eragon would react positively if she told him that Murtagh had wanted to hold his son.

“He came in to tell me that he thought he had seen something, but -”

“Don’t lie to me,” Eragon interrupted her.

Was it that obvious? Saphira grabbed onto his shoulders and made sure she was in-between him and the door.

Obviously she had to tell the truth. _Forgive me_.

“Please don’t blame him, alright? I was the one who agreed to this insanity,” she licked her lips.

Eragon blinked, his face melting from anger into confusion. Further into the room, Saphira could vaguely hear Aksel cooing softly to Ren.

“We never meant for you to find out. I knew you wouldn’t react well and he...” she trailed off. “I don’t know what motivated him, really.”

Eragon opened his mouth. She cut him off.

“He called me two weeks ago and said he had a favour to ask of me. Don’t interrupt me,” Saphira said firmly. “You wanted me to explain, so let me.”

The brunet closed his mouth again. Saphira nodded.

“He asked me if I could help him with something. He...” she sighed. “He wanted to hold Ren.”

Silence. Saphira made sure to look directly into Eragon’s eyes. She wanted to see what he was feeling. _Anger_. _Disbelief_.

“And you let him?”

Saphira opened her mouth, but shut it just as quickly. She could feel his presence as if he was standing right behind her. He was there, just outside, and he could hear every word. She had to choose her words carefully.

“I know I should have told him no, but Eragon; he just wanted to hold his son. Just once. How could I turn him down?” she whispered.

“Easy. You just use the word **no** ,” Eragon ground out. “Ren is not his son in any form of the word.”

“Eragon!” Saphira hissed.

“He isn’t!” he hissed back.

 _-He can hear you!-_ she said desperately.

 _-I don’t care!! He had no right to ask that._ No right _.-_

 _-It was his last wish, Eragon. His_ dying _wish. How could I say no to that!?-_

Eragon fell silent.

“Eragon, please,” she murmured.

“He had no right,” he replied softly.

“Nothing happened and I was here the whole time,” she tightened her grip slightly. “Please, please don’t freak out.”

“But -” he looked at her desperately.

 _-He won’t ask to hold him again,-_ she told him firmly. _-It was just a one-time thing. That was why I said yes. Just don’t attack him. Do you even know what could happen then?-_

Eragon was silent for a very long time.

 _-I guess not. I’ll...let it slide, but never again,-_ he added coldly.

Saphira nodded. She removed her hands from his shoulders. Eragon glared one last time at the closed doors and strode over to Ren and Aksel. Saphira watched the blond hand over Ren. She leaned back against the wall and closed her eyes.

What had she done? Or more importantly, what sort of damage had been caused in the last five minutes?

**::OBSESSION::**

Thorn listened to Saphira’s panicked words. Apparently last night had been nothing if not catastrophic. She hadn’t been able to talk about anything else since his arrival.

“You should have told me,” he said softly.

“I know, but I couldn’t.”

Thorn sighed. He knew that too. He would have been unable to keep it from Murtagh. The vampire could sense the slightest change in his mood. If he had had to keep such a secret, Murtagh would have known something had been wrong. The rest he probably would have guessed.

He took her hands in his. They were in her room, so they wouldn’t be overheard. Thorn suddenly understood why she had been so stressed on that point when she had dragged him there upon his arrival.

“Did you see him earlier? Did he seem different?” Saphira asked.

“I didn’t see him, actually, and we didn’t arrive together either,” Thorn frowned. “I haven’t talked to him at all today, to tell you the truth.”

He hadn’t thought there would be a reason to check up on him, but now that he thought about it, Thorn cursed himself. Murtagh hadn’t been there when he had woken up. Thorn doubted he had even slept in his bed, because it had looked undisturbed. And when he had gotten up, Murtagh had been lying on the couch. He hadn’t moved all afternoon, not even when Thorn had left.

He was getting sloppy. Thorn shook his head. He needed to pay more attention. One slip could be fatal.

Thorn froze.

“Thorn?”

“I just...I can’t remember the last time I saw Murtagh feed,” he whispered.

“No,” Saphira breathed. “Ren would have noticed if he was cold. He’s not starving himself again.”

“He’s wearing a jacket. He **is**. That son of a bitch!” Thorn growled and stood.

“Thorn!” Saphira dragged him back down by his hands. “He’s not. We would have seen it.”

“No, we wouldn’t have. I’ve been focusing on you and Vanir’s stuck here most of the time.”

Saphira closed her mouth. Thorn dropped her hands and started to pace.

He was a moron. He hadn’t gotten the proof yet, but the more he thought about it, the likelier it seemed. Which was completely moronic of Murtagh. He needed to be as strong as possible to take down Formora.

Thorn paused. As strong as possible? But...no, he couldn’t ask that of Eragon.

“What is it?” Saphira murmured.

Thorn blinked. Saphira had risen sometime during his pacing, and was now standing before him. Her hands rested on his chest gently, one just on top of his heart.

“I was just thinking. The signs are there, but if Murtagh really was starving himself, then he’d be a right idiot. Formora can show up any day now,” he murmured. “I need to ask him outright.”

She nodded.

“And...” he hesitated.

“And?” she bit her lip.

“And I was thinking...we want Murtagh to win, don’t we?” Thorn licked his lips.

Saphira nodded.

“How much would you say Eragon hates Murtagh right now?”

**::OBSESSION::**

 

It took Thorn a day to confront him. How did he know Thorn wanted to confront him? The fact that he was hiding something had been written all over him that morning. Thorn used to be such a good liar, but he supposed that even liars had their limits.

Murtagh sat on his usual spot, where he knew he wasn’t visible from the inside. Everyone probably knew about his little venture inside two days ago. Murtagh was actually a little surprised Teller hadn’t come out and screamed at him, or at least thrown him off his property. Then again, he was the one that was supposed to keep them safe. That was probably the only reason he was still allowed on the premises.

Thorn came out just as Murtagh finished his second walk around the house. God, it was getting boring already. It was tempting to bring a book the next night.

“Tag?”

He was nervous. Murtagh had to smirk. It wasn’t every day Thorn was so glaringly nervous.

Murtagh hopped back onto the railing and let both of his legs dangle over the edge. He nodded his head in answer.

“I need to talk to you,” Thorn closed the door behind him.

“I know,” Murtagh drawled. “And let me guess...it’s about a certain happening two nights ago?”

Thorn looked shocked for a second. Murtagh allowed himself a moment to feel smug. 

“Actually, it isn’t,” the hydra frowned. “Have you been eating?” 

Murtagh crocked an eyebrow. That wasn’t out of the blue at all. He crossed his arms and remembered that he was wearing a jacket. Ah, suddenly Thorn’s question wasn’t out of the blue after all. 

“Yes, I have,” the vampire answered after a slight pause.

“How come I haven’t seen it?” Thorn narrowed his eyes.

Murtagh held out his hand. Thorn flinched back slightly. He rolled his eyes.

“I’m not going to bite. Just feel my skin. It’s warm,” Murtagh smirked slightly. “I stole your key when we got here. With you only paying attention to your beloved, I figured I had to start self-medicating.”

Thorn, who had stepped forward, stopped. He narrowed his eyes dangerously at his rider.

“Excuse me?”

“Whoops. Wrong choice of words.”

“Murtagh,” Thorn growled. “How often are you feeding?” 

Murtagh brushed him off. Thorn reached out and grabbed onto his wrist. Murtagh let the contact linger long enough for the hydra to feel his lukewarm skin before shaking it off. 

“Once a month, per doctor’s request,” he answered innocently.

“How. Often?” Thorn ground out.

“Every three weeks,” Murtagh tsk’ed. “I know that means that I’m actually eating twice a month, but what can I say? I get hungry easily.”

Thorn scowled at him. 

It was silent for a few minutes. Murtagh vaguely wondered if Thorn was going to walk back inside, but the other stayed put.

“Was there something else?” he drawled.

“Why are you doing this?”

Murtagh crocked an eyebrow. Why was he doing what, exactly?

“You say you want nothing to do with Eragon, Ren and the bond, and yet...” Thorn gestured inside. “Why did you do it?”

“Cat got your tongue, or are you just unable to form complete sentences now?” the vampire teased.

Thorn flipped him off.

“Love you too,” Murtagh smirked.

Thorn stiffened.  
  
“What?”

“Nothing,” the hydra shook his head. “I’ll have that answer someday, just you wait and see.”

“Oh, I’m dying of anticipation,” Murtagh drawled. “Now, run off to your little girlfriend. I’m sure she misses you...or at least a certain part of you.”

Thorn flipped him off and threw a certain curse word his way. Murtagh chuckled and went back to work.

**::OBSESSION::**

“I think we should ask Murtagh if he wants to before we ask Eragon if he’s willing,” Saphira said firmly. 

Eragon paused. Ren was cooing softly in his arms, and he bounced him gently. He had been on the way to the kitchen when he had heard Saphira speaking to Thorn in her room. What were they talking about?

“And get his hopes up only to tear them down?”

“He has hopes about this?” Saphira murmured almost inaudibly. 

“...I don’t know,” Thorn sighed.

“I still think we should ask him first. If he refuses, then we don’t have to bother Eragon with this,” she said softly. 

“And what if he doesn’t refuse, but the kid does?” Thorn countered.

“And what if it’s the other way around? What if he says no after we’ve convinced Eragon to do it? Things are already rocky enough between them, if there even is a _them_ at stake here,” Saphira muttered something that sounded like _Andelan_ , but Eragon couldn’t make out what it had been. “I just wish -”

“Things were less complicated,” Thorn finished.

Eragon heard her say a soft ‘yes’. He frowned. What was going on? They were talking about him and Murtagh, he understood that much, but what about them?

He had a bad feeling about this, and it had nothing to do with the fact that he was eavesdropping.

“Why does you rider have to be a complete bastard?!” Saphira exclaimed. 

“I don’t know,” Thorn replied gruffly. “I wish he wasn’t, I really do, but you can’t change him that easily.”

Saphira laughed a little hysterically.

“Maybe this is a bad idea. Maybe we should just put it on ice?” 

Thorn didn’t answer right away. Eragon found himself leaning further in to listen. Even Ren had become quiet.

“We want Murtagh to win, don’t we? Then we need to do this,” the male said finally 

Saphira let out a frustrated cry. Eragon backed up a pace. He looked down at Ren, but the baby looked completely at peace, sucking on his thumb like nothing was wrong in the world.

“Does he want to?” Saphira replied a little breathlessly.

“He does,” Thorn replied a little awkwardly.

Eragon blinked. Why did he sound so awkward?

“But he doesn’t want to survive,” Saphira choked.

Eragon leaned against the wall. No matter how many times he heard it, he still wasn’t sure what he felt.

Murtagh was giving up his life for him, for him and Ren to be precise. Ten months ago Eragon would have died of laughter if someone had told him the same vampire that wanted to kill him was now going to sacrifice his life for Eragon and their child.

Their child. Ren. Murtagh had wanted to hold him and Eragon had snapped afterwards. It had felt right three days ago. Had really so little time passed? And now, now he wasn’t sure anymore.

He hated Murtagh, he knew that much. He had bitten him, raped him and had nearly scared him to death.

Eragon blinked. Was that it? Was that everything Murtagh had done? No, he had harmed Aksel. Yeah, Eragon hated him for that. He had harmed one of Eragon’s best friends...because he had thought Aksel had been the father of Eragon’s child.

The brunet licked his lips. During the past few days, he hadn’t really thought things through. When he had heard that Murtagh didn’t care enough to survive his fight with Formora, he had spent the day thinking of what his life would be like after Murtagh’s death. It would be quiet and no one would come after them again. He could raise his son without having to look over his shoulder every five seconds. He hadn’t thought of what he would feel. In fact, whenever his feelings had come into the picture, he had backtracked or forced himself to think about something else.

How would he feel, though? He would be relieved, of course. And he wouldn’t have to feel tired because he wouldn’t have to donate blood anymore.

But he was being selfish. Thorn was about to lose his rider, his other half, and all Eragon could think about was how easier his life was about to become? Ren was about to lose his father as well. He would never get a chance to get to know him. So what if his father was a vampire? Vampires were ‘people’ too, he supposed. Murtagh had turned around, so even if he still was a bastard and evil, he meant good. He was there to protect them.

Murtagh had insisted that he would protect them.

And here Thorn and Saphira was arguing over something that they were afraid to speak to him about, because they thought he would turn them down because it involved Murtagh.

Eragon tried to listen in more, but their voices had faded to whispers. The whispers in his head were actually louder than theirs. He pushed away from the wall and walked into the living room.

The curtains were drawn. They were usually drawn, mostly at night. During the day they were open enough just to let in light. Eragon looked at the clock on the wall and noticed to his surprise that it was two in the morning.

That meant that Murtagh was still there.

He shook his head and moved into the kitchen. There he turned on the stove and put a pot of water on the heating plate. Then he began to rock Ren softly. And, as if knowing he was about to be fed, the baby started to fuss.

Eragon sighed. This was one of the times he wished he had a second parent to help him. It just wasn’t the same when Saphira, Arya, Nasuada or even Aksel helped him. Although Eragon would rather shoot himself than admit it, he was definitely the mom; he needed a male companion to aid him. Thorn was out of the picture, as were Vanir and Aksel. Even when Aksel helped, it wasn't the same.

Eragon felt his eyes drift over to the terrace doors. A tiny sliver of night could be viewed through the curtains. It was jet black. Maybe there was no moon tonight?

He shook his head firmly. What was he thinking? No moon? So what? He had to get a hold of himself. His mind wandered far too easily.

The water was finally boiling and Eragon put the baby bottle into it. Then he checked the time, noted it and calculated when he needed to take the bottle out of the water.

Ren’s fussing was getting louder. Eragon put the baby’s head over his shoulder and started to massage his back.

“Shh, Ren, it’s alright. Food is coming,” he murmured.

For some reason Ren’s fussing just got louder. Eragon sighed.

“What’s wrong, Ren? What’s wrong? I’m here.”

Eragon checked the clock again. He put Ren down in the baby chair and got the bottle out of the water. Then he turned the plate off and put the pot on a cold plate. He handed it to Ren, but the baby’s eyes were closed as he had started to cry. Eragon frowned and put the bottle down. He cradled Ren to his chest and held the bottle to his lips. No response.

“What? But you were hungry two minutes ago,” Eragon muttered in disbelief.

He put the bottle down again and started to rock him. Ren just continued to cry.

“Shhh, Ren. Come on, don’t do this to me. The entire house may wake up,” he said a little desperately.

Nothing. Ren continued to cry his little heart out.

Eragon checked his diaper, but nothing there either. There was no reason for him to be crying. So he continued to rock him.

Five minutes passed.

“Unbelievable,” Eragon muttered tiredly. “Come on, Ren, come on. Everything’s okay. Everyone’s okay. At least, I think everyone is...”

His eyes looked back at the terrace doors. He could still just see the night from the sliver in the curtains. He looked back at his son.

“See? Everyone’s okay. I’m okay, your aunties are okay, your uncle is okay, your grandpa is okay,” Eragon grinned slightly at Brom’s new nickname. “Murtagh’s friends are okay, and -”

Eragon stared at Ren in shock. The baby’s eyes had opened and his cries had lost a little of their strength.

“No. You’re kidding, right, Ren? You’re just playing a joke on me,” Eragon smiled awkwardly. “There’s no way you want your dad.”

But there was. Ren was back to just fussing. Eragon felt like screaming.

“I can’t do that, Ren,” Eragon said softly. “Murtagh is very busy. He’s guarding us, making sure that we’re all safe from this evil b- lady. So we can’t bother him. Why don’t you just drink your bottle like a good little boy?”

Not a chance. Eragon tried, but Ren still wouldn’t drink from his bottle. The milk had started to get on the cold side of lukewarm, but that couldn’t be it.

“Please Ren,” he whispered. “Please. Please eat for me?”

“Eragon, what’s wrong?”

Eragon looked up. Saphira’s frown deepened. She rushed over to him and glanced at Ren before looking back at him.

“What’s wrong with Ren?” she murmured.

“He wants his dad,” Eragon said desperately.

Saphira’s eyes widened almost comically.

“Are you sure?” she whispered.

“Pretty sure.”

Saphira bit her lip. She opened her mouth, but changed her mind and closed it again.

“He won’t eat, Saph,” Eragon swallowed heavily.

“Like father like son.”

Thorn had entered.

“That’s not funny, Thorn,” Saphira hissed.

Thorn looked dead serious. Eragon knew it hadn’t been meant as a funny comment

“Here, let me take him,” Saphira lifted Ren out of his arms. “Maybe I can make him eat.”

Eragon let her. His mood dropped even more when the baby refused his bottle once again.

“This is my fault,” Saphira hung her head.

Eragon looked at her. She had put down the bottle, but she was still holding Ren in her arms, rocking him softly.

“I should never have let Murtagh -”

“It’s fine.”

Saphira blinked. If Eragon had been able to see him, he was sure Thorn had done the same.

Eragon felt Thorn approach. Soon Thorn had walked around him and had taken a seat on the other end of the table. His body was placed so they were eye to eye. And even though Saphira was closer to Eragon, they formed a sort of triangle.

“It is,” Eragon repeated. “I, um...I’ve been selfish.”

Thorn blinked. He didn’t look confused like Saphira. He looked calculating. Eragon almost felt the need to blush under the heavy stare.

“He...he’s Ren’s other parent. He has the right to -”

“No, he doesn’t,” Thorn interrupted him. “But you think he does. Why? What made you change your mind so quickly?”

Eragon did blush this time. Ren started to fuss again. Saphira handed him back and Eragon let the baby rest against his shoulder. He shushed him gently.

“Eragon?” Saphira murmured.

“I heard you two talk,” he admitted finally. “I’m sorry, I know I shouldn’t have, but I did.”

Saphira’s mouth fell open.

“And that made you change your mind?” Thorn frowned.

“No, not change my mind...” he trailed off. “I’m not sure what it did, but...I don’t know. I don’t know what I think anymore.”

“Remember who he is, Eragon,” Saphira sat down at the head of the table.

Now they were forming a perfect triangle. Eragon didn’t know why he was noticing this, but he was.

“Remember what he’s done,” she continued.

“I know who he is, what he’s done. He’s a vampire. He has killed, tortured, raped...hell, he raped and nearly killed me! Twice! But...” he looked down.

“But what?” Thorn asked.

For some reason, Eragon wanted to say that Murtagh was _his_ vampire, but that was completely and utterly ridiculous.

“I don’t know. I just feel like an idiot,” Eragon said softly and looked back at his son.

One of his hands was cradling Ren’s head. The dark hair going to stay, Eragon knew that. Ren would have his father’s hair. And for some reason, he didn’t mind.

“An idiot? You have every reason to be suspicious of Murtagh,” Saphira placed a hand on his unoccupied shoulder. “He’s dangerous.”

“And he’s giving up his life for me.”

Thorn sat back. He crossed his arms and nodded, like he had been waiting for that answer all along. Suddenly Eragon felt very exposed.

“So that was what won you over,” he said softly.

“Won me over?!” Eragon exclaimed.

Ren started to cry louder. Eragon cursed at himself in _Andelan_ and started to rock him a little faster, muttering soft words into his son’s ear.

“It’s okay, Ren. It’s fine. I didn’t mean to.”

Ren calmed down this time, thankfully, though he was still fussing a bit. Eragon sighed.

“I’m not won over,” the brunet repeated softly. “I still hate him and wish this hadn’t happened.”

“You wish _he_ hadn’t happened?” Thorn crocked an eyebrow and nodded at the baby.

“Are you nuts?” Eragon glared at him. “I love Ren. I don’t wish he hadn’t come to be. I just wish...”

“Murtagh hadn’t come along with him?” the redhead suggested.

Eragon looked away and shrugged.

Silence fell around them. Eragon looked up and found Saphira handing him the baby bottle. He took it and nodded gratefully to her. Then he tried to feed Ren again.

He wanted to cry himself when Ren just pushed at the bottle.

“What did you want to ask me?” he said softly, staring down at his son sadly.

Ren eyes were closed as he made soft distressed sounds. Eragon stroked a finger down his cheek.

There was no answer. Eragon looked up. Both hydras looked awkward.

“I’m here. Come on, ask me,” Eragon said firmly. “I want to know.”

“Well, we’re concerned about Murtagh’s health,” Thorn began.

Eragon felt a burst of déjà vu. For a vampire, Murtagh seemed to have a lot of problems with his health. It was very ironic.

“We want him to win, and we want him to survive the fight,” Thorn licked his lips. “There is something we thought could give him a burst of extra strength, but Saphira and I have been talking about it and...”

“And now we don’t think it’s a good idea anymore,” Saphira took over. “We discovered that we don’t know vampire customs, even Thorn who has lived with one knows very little, so...we put it on ice. It’s best not to risk it.”

“I still want to know,” Eragon repeated.

“We were going to ask you to let him bite you,” Thorn said bluntly.

Eragon choked.

“But therein lies the problem,” Saphira bit her lip. “If consciously letting him bite you somehow signifies that you accept the bond, then we couldn’t ask you to do such a thing.”  
  
“I couldn’t ask you,” Thorn corrected her. “I fear for my rider, but Saphira fears for me. It was my foolish idea. We won’t ask you to do that.”

Eragon gulped. No wonder they had been bickering back and forth between who to ask first.

“If...if that was the question, then you should have asked him first,” he said weakly. “Him or Brom. Brom should know if it was a part of their custom, right?”

Saphira blinked in surprise.

“He should know, yes,” she murmured. “I can’t believe I didn’t think of him first.”

“That’s all in the past,” Thorn sighed. “We’re not going to ask you or him. I’ll just make sure he’s well-fed and rested. The rest will just...be.”

Eragon turned his head to look at the terrace doors again. There was nothing; just the same darkness as before. He turned his head back.

Eragon picked the bottle back up and pressed the tip to his son’s mouth. He sniffled when Ren’s hands finally came up to cradle the bottle as he drank. Saphira gripped his shoulder softly and smiled at him. He gave a half-smile back.

**::OBSESSION::**

Eragon hadn’t seen him, hadn’t felt him, but Thorn had. It was creepy the things his rider could do. Murtagh usually didn’t use magic, hadn’t done so either, but that time it had felt like he had. Thorn had wanted to shudder, but had stayed unmoving.

It seemed like he had something to talk to Murtagh about.

Thorn watched Saphira guide Eragon back to his room. It seemed like the hour of the day and the fatigue had finally set in. He gave her a soft smile and kissed her cheek. Saphira smiled back. As soon as the door closed behind them, Thorn was at the terrace doors and had snuck outside.

Murtagh was there, just as he had suspected. It was snowing softly. Thorn pulled on the jacket he had worn earlier and walked up to the vampire. Murtagh didn’t move a muscle.

“You were listening,” Thorn said accusingly.

Murtagh didn’t even blink. For a second, Thorn wondered if he was dead. Then he moved.

“And?” Murtagh drawled.

“Aren’t you going to say anything?” Thorn frowned.

“No.”

Thorn blinked. After everything that had been said, Murtagh wasn’t going to...?

“What?” he walked up to his rider. “After everything that was said in there, you’re not going to comment?”  
  
“I don’t see why I should,” Murtagh looked at him for a split second before staring out at the night again.

“Bullshit,” Thorn said and gripped his shoulder. “With Ren missing you and Eragon warming up to your presence -”

“So what?” the vampire ripped his shoulder out of Thorn’s hold. “It doesn’t change a thing.”

“It should,” Thorn said gruffly.

“It won’t,” Murtagh closed his eyes and took a deep breath. “This battle is going to cost me my life, I can feel it. And I don’t care. I’m...almost at peace.”

Thorn wanted to slap him.

“That’s why I want you to go ahead and court Saphira done already,” Murtagh looked at him. “So you’ll be protective of her when the time comes for me to take the bitch down. I do not want you out there fighting with me.”

“Why are you being so self-sacrificing all of a sudden?!”

“I’m not,” Murtagh smirked. “I’m being selfish. I want to kill her by myself, and that’s that.”

“And leaving Eragon all alone to raise your son is just...okay?!” Thorn asked harshly.

“Yes,” the smirk widened slightly. “Besides, that child was never mine to begin with. Eragon said that himself.”

“You heard what he said in there! He regrets saying it.”

“That’s stupid of him,” the vampire rolled his eyes. “He should go back to seeing me the way he did a month ago.”

“A month ago he would have run out here with a stake and shoved it through your chest,” Thorn supplied dryly.

Murtagh just smirked amusedly.

“Freak,” the hydra grunted.

Murtagh laughed. It sent an unpleasant shiver up Thorn’s spine. But it didn’t matter. One way or the other, Thorn was going to get through to Murtagh, even if he had to kick Murtagh’s ass to do it.

**::OBSESSION::**

Saphira peeked inside the room. She let out a soft sigh at the sight before her. Eragon was sitting on his bed; his back slouched against the wall as he slept. There was a book in his lap, of all things. Saphira shook her head and walked inside.

A soft murmur from Ren made her smile. She could sense that he was still asleep. That was probably a good thing. She walked up to Eragon, plucked the book out of his lap and guided him to lie down. She then covered him with a blanket and put the book on the bedside table.

Her gaze softened when she looked at her rider. There were small bruises under his eyes. He was clearly not sleeping well. It pained her greatly. How could she even think of leaving him, of getting mated, when it was so clear that Eragon needed someone there beside him?

Saphira sat down on the bed. She reached out and gently started to comb a hand through his hair. He muttered something in his sleep, but she couldn’t make it out.

There was little that didn’t pain her about her rider. Everything that was happening to him was unfair. Because of Murtagh, Eragon couldn’t be with anyone. No matter what the vampire said, if Eragon got a boyfriend, Murtagh would tear the guy to pieces. Vampires were possessive creatures. Murtagh nearly killed Aksel when he thought the blond had gotten Eragon pregnant, and that had been weeks before Murtagh had admitted that he and Eragon were mated. She didn’t want to know what would happen if someone tried to come on to Eragon now.

She winced. It really wasn’t fair. Murtagh would have to die for Eragon to be able to be with anyone else. After all, the vampire refused to court Eragon. A part of her really doubted Murtagh would ever get over that stage. That wasn’t the same as admitting that he had only one life source. To her, Murtagh really didn’t seem like the amorous type. From what she had heard from Thorn, the vampire was exactly the opposite of amorous. Oh, Saphira knew he could flirt and play nice, but she also knew that now that Eragon was aware of this. Eragon would doubtfully be fooled again. Murtagh would have to be sincere for Eragon to let down his guard around him again. That meant that unless Murtagh changed completely, Eragon would never be able to be in a relationship.

Saphira cursed him. Who was Murtagh to come in and ruin Eragon’s life like that? Eragon had never been in a relationship before Murtagh had come along. Hell, he had been a virgin before Murtagh had entered his life. There was little the vampire hadn’t already taken from Eragon, and there were a few of those things Saphira would make sure that he never would get his hands on.

The hydra sighed and looked down at her rider. She had to wonder what he had been doing that had caused him to fall asleep sitting up. She looked back at the book. She couldn’t see the title quiet clearly. She turned on the bedside light, made sure that the light was dim and gazed back at the book.

**_O_** _f Vampires and Vampire Lore – the full story._

Saphira blinked. What was Eragon doing with this book? Hell, where had he even found it? She had thought Eragon wanted to forget everything he had ever learned about vampires. She opened the page that had been open when she had taken it out of Eragon’s lap. Thank God there had been a bookmark there. She tucked a piece of hair behind her ear and read.

**_V_** _ampires are indeed mysterious creatures. They defy all logic. They are impossibly strong, faster than what a human eye can comprehend, only need to feed on a semi-regular basis and are usually cold to the touch. They usually stay in covens, but despise the thought of having a family. They can hold onto any surface, such as the roof or a wall, but cannot fly. Their sperm produce vampires with everyone but their mate, but a vampire cannot impregnate another vampire. They cannot get sick by normal means, but have their own illnesses._

_Then there’s the fact that they have mates. It has been speculated why vampires of all creatures have mates. The..._

Saphira moved to the next page.

**_W_** _hen it comes to mating, vampires, like all creatures, have their rituals. They even have laws and customs. Few of these laws are known. Most of them are punishable by death if told to a non-vampire being. The laws that are known..._

She skipped further down.

**_T_** _he vampiric mating ritual is not widely known. Only a few encounters have been written down, and most of these have been lost throughout time. There are variables, such as how a dominate vampire would court their mate opposed to how a submissive vampire would court theirs._

_The few details that are known are that the vampire always courts their mate, be they submissive or dominant. The final stage must contain a sexual act; penetration seems to be optional. The non-vampire part must show that they trust the vampire by letting them bite them during the final stage of the courting._

_Even less is known about the earlier stages of courting. There are rumours that suggest that the vampire must show that, if dominant, they can take care of their mate or, if submissive, that they can take care of any offspring they may have. None of these rumours have been confirmed._

Saphira put the book down. She looked down at her rider and wondered what had possessed him to read this part of the book. She bit her lip and hoped that he had just been curious or wanted to know what to look out for if Murtagh were to change his mind. If there was another reason, she wasn’t sure what she would do.

 

**::OBSESSION::**

Eragon stood in the living room doorway, looking at the two hydras sitting inside of it. They were sitting together, not looking at each other, though they were obviously talking mentally. He was almost reluctant to go in there and disturb the picture they made.

As Eragon stood there, he couldn’t help but to remember the last time he had spoken to Saphira. A day had passed since then, and that had indeed been a talk to remember.

It wasn’t often that Aksel came to him for advice, but lately he had been coming a lot. Eragon was glad Saphira had been there with him when Aksel had stormed inside and demanded that they all talk. He had never seen Aksel look so distressed before. It was amusing, really. From what Thorn had told Saphira and she in turn had told Eragon, Aksel had no reason to be distressed. Vanir would make his move soon. At least Aksel knew where he stood now.

A thought struck Eragon then. Out of the three of them -him, Saphira and Aksel- no one was dominant. That was strange. Very strange. Almost like it was meant to be, not that Eragon believed in that kind of stuff. But it was very amusing that Aksel had proved to be submissive. He didn’t seem like the type. Then again, he didn’t seem like the type to be dominant either. Aksel was just...Aksel.

Ren let out a soft coo then. Eragon looked down at his son and smiled. Ren let out a gurgle and continued to suck on his blanket happily. He sighed and looked back up.

Even if it had been twenty-four hours since he had last seen her, two days since the late-night talk, Eragon still didn’t know how to act around Thorn and Saphira. But with everything that was going on, he couldn’t avoid them, at least, not anymore.

“Has anyone seen Aksel?”

Saphira looked up. Eragon bounced Ren in his arms and tried not to appear too awkward.

“I saw him yesterday, a little after the talk the three of us had,” Saphira said and tucked a piece of hair behind her ear.

Thorn just shrugged.

Eragon sighed and put the basket down on the couch before sitting down beside it. Ren cooed softly.

“Why do you ask?” Thorn asked.

“No reason,” Eragon shrugged. “It’s just quiet when he’s not around.”  
  
“Mm, ain’t that the truth,” Arya said as she suddenly appeared behind him.

Eragon jumped. Ren cooed excitedly.

“Where did you come from?” Eragon wheezed.

Arya laughed and sat down on the armrest. Nasuada padded out and sat down in an actual seat.

“I heard you mention my dear brother and figured I’d stop by,” she said and gave a half smirk.

Nasuada shook her head and sighed.

“What’s going on?” Thorn crocked an eyebrow.

Eragon looked at him. Thorn had never appeared comfortable talking when the girls were around, probably because he didn’t know them very well, so to hear him asking them a question brought him a lot of attention.

Saphira’s eyes widened suddenly. Arya met her gaze and nodded. The female hydra let out a soft giggle and leaned more firmly against Thorn’s side.

“What?” Eragon echoed.

“I do believe Aksel is getting hitched,” Arya answered smugly.

Eragon choked. He put Ren down and made sure his son was comfortable before looking back up. Thorn was laughing into his hand while Saphira appeared calm and happy. Nasuada rolled her eyes while Arya was still smirking

“Got hitched, Arya. Past tense,” Nasuada corrected. “His room may be on the other side, but I knew what was going on when I stepped in here to get a glass of water last night.”

Thorn’s laughter got louder. Saphira nudged him, but Thorn appeared unable to stop laughing.

“You mean Vanir...?” Eragon trailed off.

“Yup,” Arya crossed her arms and winked. “My little brother in a committed relationship. I never thought I’d live to see the day.”

“And they...?” Eragon found himself unable to finish the sentence.

“Not necessarily,” Nasuada replied. “I just said I knew what was going on, not that I heard them go at it. The energy and magic that flowed through the wall was...indescribable. I didn’t stick around to listen to the sounds.”

If possible, Thorn’s laughter just got louder. Saphira snorted and nudged him hard. He fell out of his seat with a muffled grunt.

Eragon stared at Saphira in disbelief. Suddenly he was very aware of her strength.

“I’m sorry,” Thorn breathed when he got up. “It’s just...I know Vanir. He’s got a stick up his ass.”  
  
“No wonder he ended up topping. Aksel can’t fit in there if there’s something already filling him,” Eragon found himself saying.

Suddenly Thorn was falling back down on the floor and Saphira was giggling loudly. Nasuada choked while Arya looked caught between laughing and looking a little ill.

“Apparently Aksel’s joking spirit travels on when he can’t be in the room,” Arya said and blinked.

“I don’t want it!” Eragon spluttered. “I’m not a pervert!”

Saphira hid a giggle. He glared at her.

“Oh, is there something you’re not telling us, Eragon?” Arya leered.

“Now, now Arya, leave him be,” Nasuada said.

“It was nothing, really,” Saphira shrugged. “I just forgot to comment on the book I saw in his room the other day.”

Eragon felt the blood leave his face.

Suddenly everyone was looking at him. And suddenly all the blood was rushing back to his face. He cleared his throat.

“I’m just reading up on the situation I’m in, that’s all,” he said awkwardly.

“That was what Aksel said, and look at him now,” Arya drawled, though there was a smirk on her face.

“Well, his situation is - _was_ different and we’re not going to talk about mine,” Eragon looked down and stroked Ren’s cheek.

An awkward silence filled the room.

Eragon continued to stroke Ren’s cheek. The baby was sucking on his blanket while his eyes were closed. Eragon couldn’t believe that Ren was only two months.

Eragon looked up when the silence just seemed to stretch on. Thorn and Saphira looked caught in a silent conversation, the same with Arya and Nasuada. Eragon felt a pang of sadness when he realised he was the only one who didn’t have anyone anymore. Because even though Saphira and Thorn hadn’t made it official yet, it was only a matter of time. And now that Aksel and Vanir had surprised everyone and finally gotten together, Eragon was the only one left.

And to think that he had been mated before Saphira and Thorn had gotten to know each other better and way before Aksel had even met Vanir. The world truly was an ironic place.

“Eragon?”

He blinked. Saphira was looking at him worriedly.

“What?”

“Are you alright?” she asked.

“Yeah, why?” he tilted his head.

“You looked so preoccupied, that’s all,” Saphira smiled softly.

“I’m fine,” Eragon shrugged. “I was just thinking.”

Saphira nodded. She opened her mouth to say something else when Ren started to whimper. Eragon looked down and checked him with his eyes to see if anything was wrong. When he didn’t see anything out of place, he picked Ren up and cradled him. His diaper was clean, he had been fed and burped a half hour ago, his blanket had been within reach...

“What’s wrong with him?” Arya asked.

“I don’t know,” Eragon rocked him. “He just suddenly started to cry.”

For some reason, this seemed to upset him even more. Eragon frowned and put him against his shoulder and stood. He continued to rock him.

“No. No, no, no,” Thorn said then and stood in a hurry.

“Thorn?” Saphira stood as well.

“No, you fucker, don’t!” he hissed and stalked over to the terrace doors.

Eragon felt his eyes widen.

“Don’t you dare!!” Thorn growled.

Eragon didn’t have to turn around to know who Thorn was talking to.

“Thorn, what -?”

“Get back! Everybody get back!” Thorn said suddenly and pushed Saphira away from the doors.

Arya grabbed onto Eragon’s and Nasuada’s arm and pulled them away. They had acted just in time. Not a second later a figure smashed through the doors and landed on the floor. Eragon felt Arya continue to drag him away. He was completely unable to move on his own. He had never been so afraid in his entire life.

Before him the figure was getting to its feet. Its eyes were alight with bloodlust and a thin trail of red was sliding down its chin. It straightened and looked at the crowd behind them before focusing on one target. It smirked.

Before Eragon stood his worst nightmare and it was looking at him.


	16. Thirsting

**Notes for the Chapter:**

>  _-Speech.-_ Eragon/Saphira, Murtagh/Thorn and Saphira/Thorn talking to each other mentally.
> 
> No Andelan was used in this chapter.

_::March::_

At first it had felt like any other night. Of course, once that thought entered Murtagh’s mind, he was instantly on alert. Nothing was ever the same, even if it appeared that way. 

It happened during his second hour on watch. He was just finishing the walk around the house when he noticed that there was a large crowd inside the living room. Everyone but the happily mated couple was there, who had been a little too loud last night for Murtagh’s taste. Teller was also absent. Murtagh couldn’t tell what they were talking about, but that was because he didn’t want to.

Murtagh leaned against his favourite pole and looked out into the night. It was getting quite dull watching the house every night. It wasn’t a problem that it literally made him a creature of the night, but it was dull. Nothing happened besides the soap opera that seemed to be aired inside the house every night. He had stopped listening after the first week. It was just the same old, boring crap.

Murtagh felt his mind wander back to his last conversation with Thorn as he scanned the grounds. The vampire hoped Thorn would mate with Saphira soon so he would get off his back. Thorn knew him and knew what he felt about being with someone for the rest of his miserable life. It was bullshit. 

So the kid was his mate. So they had a child together. So the kid was starting to accept him. Or rather, he was starting to accept his presence. It didn’t matter. Murtagh didn’t accept him and his fluffy and happily-ever-after world. Tough luck. 

Maybe that was why he was so eager for the fighting to start? Because he wanted it to be over? Either he died, or he had finally slain Formora and could breathe a little easier. Of course, then there was Durza, but one enemy at a time. Besides, Durza never left his cosy little hide-out. Murtagh scowled. That would make it harder to track him down and kill him, of course, but if he found a way it would be worth it. 

But Murtagh realised that it wasn’t that easy. The council could easily place out a warrant for his head. That was why he hoped that killing Formora would be enough. As much as he wanted them both dead, he didn’t want to die himself. And if he had the entire vampire community after him, he could just as well kiss his own ass goodbye. Murtagh was good, but he wasn’t _that_ good. 

A wind rustling through the forest woke him from his thoughts. Something was off. It hadn’t sounded right. His eyes narrowed and bled. There was no huge change, but he could suddenly see everything so much clearer. It was almost a relief to let them bleed black. But because daddy dearest had loved to leave his eyes like that, Murtagh usually let them stay hazel. The less he was reminded of his father, the better. 

Murtagh glared out into the woods. Nothing so far...wait, there! 

_-Murtagh?-_  

_-Not now, Thorn,-_ he replied. 

_-Murtagh?-_ Thorn sounded worried now.

_-We have company.-_

_-What?!-_ Thorn spluttered. 

_-Don’t worry, lover boy; I’ll take care of it,-_ Murtagh straightened and looked back the terrace doors. 

Thorn was looking back at him. Murtagh didn’t bother to read his lips; he knew what Thorn was saying. Murtagh sent him a smirk.

_-Take cover,-_ he said simply and grabbed onto the form that had leaped at him and threw it at the doors. 

They broke easily. Murtagh grabbed the second form by the throat and squeezed. 

“Hello Murtagh,” the vampire said silkily. 

Murtagh answered by squeezing harder. Of course Formora hadn’t come alone. Murtagh hated the two vampires she had sent with a passion. They were rare in the vampire community; twins that had been vampires from day one. They almost matched Murtagh’s strength when they were separated, but together...Murtagh didn’t like the odds, but fuck if he was going to surrender. The only vampire that was allowed to kill him was Formora. 

To add insult to injury, the twins were one of the ugliest vampires Murtagh had ever seen. The only one that was uglier was Durza himself. The twins had no hair, black-red eyes, sickly pale skin and odd looking tattoos. And for some reason, they had short, but claw-like nails. 

Just then he remembered where the other vampire had gone. He threw the twin into the wall and leaped inside after the second one. If he had a heart, he knew it would have stopped, because inside he was met with one of the most frightening sights he had ever seen. 

Thorn had Saphira covered and was leading her and a dark skinned female human away. But Eragon was still there, in the middle of everything. A female elf was pulling on his arm, but he wouldn’t move unless she tugged even harder. Ren was in Eragon’s arms and the twin was advancing. 

Murtagh saw red. 

A second later he had grabbed the twin by his arm and thrown him out of the room. He locked eyes with Thorn. 

“Get those magicians in here, now,” he growled and leaped outside.

The twins were waiting for him. He didn’t get a chance to attack before they were at him. As Murtagh felt the first fist hit him, he knew it was going to be a bloody night.

**::OBSESSION::**  

Thorn thought he had seen Murtagh seriously pissed off before, but now knew he had only seen him irritated. The Murtagh that had thrown out that vampire had been furious. Thorn knew there was only one thing he could do now; get the people Murtagh had asked for.

He didn’t need to call for them, though. Vanir, Aksel and Brom stormed into the room just as Murtagh flew out of the terrace doors. 

“Seal the house,” Thorn said, his voice sounding a little choked. “It’s what Murtagh wants you to do. There are more out there, not just the two that came now.”

Vanir’s scowl darkened. He and Brom exchanged glances before they both activated their magic. Thorn felt the magic pass through him and encircle the house. He felt the outer shell strengthen before the magicians released the spell.

“That will keep them out,” Vanir said, and Thorn couldn’t quite identify the emotion in his voice. “All of them, unfortunately.”

“It’s designed to keep all vampires out. Either we shut them all out, or someone might be able to crack through the shield,” Brom continued. “But now we have to take cover. We can’t stay here.”

“It isn’t safe?” Aksel frowned. “But you just said -” 

“Even a combined spell, such as the one we just cast, can be broken. We can’t afford to take any chances,” Vanir interrupted. “Even Murtagh, should he get angry enough, could break through.”

Thorn looked out at the broken doors. He couldn’t see Murtagh and the twins anymore. He was worried for his rider. Murtagh had completely blocked him out. He couldn’t reach him.

“We have to move now,” Brom said gruffly. “Come on.” 

Thorn felt Nasuada break out of his hold and move over to Arya. Vanir gave Brom a brisk nod and dragged Aksel towards the other half of the house. Thorn knew that Brom slept in that part of the house, along with Nasuada and Arya, but it was mostly the ex-rider’s private quarters. No doubt that he had some sort of bomb room there.

Thorn looked over at Saphira. She was pulling at Eragon’s arm, talking to him in distressed and quiet tones. He was instantly by their side. 

“We have to go too.” 

“No,” Eragon shook his head.

“Eragon, we have to. Murtagh can take care of himself,” Saphira said, and Thorn had a feeling she had said this to Eragon ten times already. 

“But he just said that there were more out there!” Eragon said in distress and pointed at Thorn. 

“There are at least two vampires out there, if not three,” Thorn said stiffly. “But you have to take Ren and go. I’ll help Murtagh.” 

Saphira looked at him in horror and sadness. He knew she understood, but he knew that it pained her nonetheless. 

_-I’ll make it out of this alive. I promise.-_  

_-You better,-_ she replied, and even in her head she sounded choked.

“Go,” he repeated and pushed them after the rest.

Aksel appeared then and began to drag Eragon away. The brunet still shook his head, but allowed himself to be pulled. Thorn had a feeling he knew what was going on in Eragon’s head. He hoped Saphira would help her rider deal with it. 

“Take care of him,” he said to her. “He’s -” 

“I know. And I will,” she said softly. 

Thorn leaned down and kissed her passionately. Then he flew out of the door and to find his rider.

**::OBSESSION::**

Murtagh chided himself for letting out a grunt of pain when he connected with the side of the house. But when he felt the sheer hardness of the house, he knew any other vampire would have reacted likewise. It seemed that the magicians had finally gotten their heads out of their asses and put a shield around the house.

He really hoped that Formora or someone else hadn’t been inside when they had done that. All Murtagh knew was that the twins were before him, and he had a feeling they weren’t the only ones sent out to catch him. 

Murtagh picked himself up from the ground and only just managed to jump out of range as the twins dove for him. He landed on the ground behind them and crouched down. So far, and even though it had only been a minute, the twins had managed to crack two of his ribs and had made his chest bleed. Thankfully they hadn’t been anywhere near his heart. 

He was almost ashamed that he was so beaten up after a fight that had only been going on for a minute. But Murtagh had the advantage. They were underestimating him. If he just got one of their necks under his hold, he could break it and only have to deal with one of them. _Then_ he would surely win. 

“Ready to give up yet, Murtagh?” the twins asked in unison. 

“Fuck you,” Murtagh spat. 

“The mistress will be arriving soon,” the taller twin said and tilted his head. 

“It would be in your best interest to let us kill you,” the other continued. 

“We were told to take you alive, but...we can say you didn’t come quietly,” the first twin grinned manically. 

“She’ll kill you if you go against her orders,” Murtagh said snidely. “And as much as I want you dead, I’d rather it not be over my dead body.” 

The twins crackled.

“What makes you think she’ll punish us for taking your pathetic life?” the second twin asked. 

“Because I killed two of her lovers. She wants to kill me with her own hands. Do you really want to take the chance of going against the orders of a woman scorned?” 

The twins fell silent. Murtagh steadied himself and waited. 

“What will be will be,” the first twin said and charged. 

He never got to Murtagh, though. Suddenly, he was thrown into the house and Murtagh grinned when he heard the crack as the twin met the magical shield and fell to the ground. He was not pleased with who had come to his rescue, though. 

“This is my fight, Thorn. Leave,” he said simply. 

“No can do, Tag,” Thorn looked at him over his shoulder. “You’re still my rider and it is still in my blood to protect you.”

The second twin charged then, but Thorn managed to duck out of the way. The twin grabbed onto the tree he had flown into and hissed at them. Murtagh turned to face this twin. Behind him, he could hear the other twin had risen and sent them a similar hiss. 

“Go and protect your mate, Thorn,” Murtagh said coldly. 

Murtagh heard Thorn take slow and measured steps towards him.

“We’re not mates yet,” Thorn replied. 

They were standing side-by-side now. 

“If you die, you’ll never be able to,” Murtagh hissed. 

“You need me now, Tag,” the hydra glanced at him for a second before eyeing the other vampire again. “And I won’t die. Neither will you.”

“You will both die when the mistress arrives,” the shortest twin hissed.

“As will your friends,” the other continued. 

“We’ll see about that,” Thorn cracked his knuckles menacingly. 

And then they attacked again. Murtagh had to focus on his twin, whom he discovered to his horror had gained more strength since the last time they had met. But at least he managed to get in a few hits this time. 

Behind him, Murtagh could hear Thorn battle the other twin. Murtagh wanted Thorn back inside the house. While he acted like he hated Thorn, he was Murtagh’s only friend. If Thorn died... 

Murtagh snarled in pain when he felt the twin rip up his shoulder. Thankfully it had been his right. He only glanced at the wounds. They looked a little too much like the ones Formora had given him the last time Murtagh had seen her. The next time the twin lashed out, Murtagh grabbed onto his wrist and twisted it around. It broke and the twin snarled. 

The twin managed to get out of his hold and leaped up into a tree. Murtagh was about to follow him when he heard Thorn cry out in pain. He turned around. 

Thorn was standing still, but something was wrong with him. He looked horribly bruised, far worse than Murtagh had ever done to him, and his chest and face were clawed at. But what stood out the most was the hand that was stuck through his shoulder.

Murtagh roared in anger. He watched as Thorn fell to the ground. It took only a second before Murtagh attacked the other twin. He grabbed onto the twins arm, twisted and flung him hard into the closest tree. The twin howled. Murtagh then turned around and flung him towards the other twin. They collided in midair. 

Murtagh leaped over to Thorn, somehow managed to gather him in his arms, and ran towards the terrace. 

“VANIR!!” he hollered when he came close enough. 

The magician showed up five seconds later. He took one look at them both before stepping outside and taking Thorn out of his arms. 

“I’m not done yet,” Murtagh said fiercely. “Heal him. Make him better. Then don’t let him come back for me.” 

Before Vanir could reply, Murtagh had taken off. He felt Vanir take Thorn inside before concentrating on finding the twins. 

When he arrived back at the spot he had left them, they were gone. He searched the grounds, but they were empty. He searched the trees as well, but they too were devoid of any vampires. 

Murtagh grabbed his wounded shoulder and swiped the grounds one more time. He saw them a second too late. 

Murtagh roared when he felt them grab onto him. They forced him to the ground and started to claw at him like mad. The fall had most likely fractured his arm, which was lying beneath him, but Murtagh didn’t care. He lashed out to get them off him, but they continued to come back and hit him. 

From deep inside of him, he could feel something rising. Murtagh knew what it was. He had discovered his magic years ago, but hated to use it. It left him with an odd aftertaste. As much as he liked power, magic always left traces. And besides, he didn’t know how to control it properly. But at that moment he didn’t care. He was not going to die tonight. 

He let out an enraged scream when the wave of magic left him. The twins were repelled from him and ricocheted off the shield when they hit it. Murtagh got to his feet and snarled at them.

“You are not killing me tonight,” he growled and pounced at them. 

He managed to grab onto the twin whose arm he had broken, but the other slipped away. Murtagh then looked into the other twin’s eyes as he flung the twin into the shield and forced him onto the ground at the same time as his fist went into the twin’s chest. The twin screamed. 

Murtagh grinned sadistically up at the other twin. Then he ripped his hand out of the vampire’s chest. The still alive twin roared. Murtagh flung the heart onto the body and glared up at the other. 

“Leave. And you tell your mistress bitch that this is what awaits her if she comes for me,” Murtagh said darkly as he pulled up a matchbox from his pocket. 

He lit one match and threw it onto the vampire. The clothes caught fire first. Eventually the body itself caught fire, despite the cold March air. Murtagh was glad it wasn’t windy that night. 

“I will see you dead,” the twin spat at him before disappearing. 

Murtagh laughed after him. He looked back at the burning corpse and deemed that the twin was dead forever. He then started to walk back to the terrace.

It was then he realised how wounded he actually was. He was bleeding severely, and while it wouldn’t kill him, he would need to feed the moment he woke up. He didn’t know when that could be. If he didn’t fall into a coma, then he would be fucking lucky. He definitely had a few broken bones, and at least a dozen fractured ones. And he had no idea how many wounds that were on his body anymore. 

He was too wounded. The fight had taken more out of him that he had realised. This wasn’t good. He needed to be more prepared for Formora’s arrival. And speaking of, if she came soon and the others hadn’t gotten him inside by then, Murtagh would be one very dead vampire. 

He wasn’t sure if that bothered him or not. His head was beginning to spin. It was getting harder to concentrate. 

Murtagh slipped suddenly and fell. He lost consciousness before he hit the ground.

**::OBSESSION::**  

Saphira felt torn. The second she felt Thorn being taken back inside the house, she had left the room Brom had led them to and rushed to Thorn’s side. He was so severely bruised and injured that she was sure she sobbed out loud. 

Somehow she had managed to help Vanir take Thorn back to the others. Vanir and Brom managed to patch him up by working together, but Thorn had still not regained consciousness.

“It’s nothing to worry about,” Brom told her. “He’ll be out until tomorrow morning at the very least. He lost a lot of blood, but we’ll make sure he’ll be fine.” 

Saphira bit her lip. She turned back to Vanir. It was ten minutes since she had found him with Thorn in his arms, and the magician still had the same look on his face. Only that now his eyes were clouded over in a look that Saphira associated with doing some sort of magic.

She shook her head. She walked over to Eragon. The room they were in had two rather large beds. Thorn was lying on one while Aksel and Eragon occupied the other. Ren was still in Eragon’s arms. Arya and Nasuada had taken a seat on the floor. Arya had Nasuada in her arms and they were talking to each other quietly. Brom stood guard by the door while Vanir still stayed leaned against the wall. 

“How are you feeling?” she asked Eragon softly. 

Eragon just shook his head. He hadn’t spoken since Aksel had taken him to the room. Saphira had tried to get through to him several times already, but he was closed up completely. She wished she knew what was going on in his mind. Whatever it was, he didn’t have to process it alone. 

“It’s going to be okay,” she murmured. 

Eragon looked down at Ren. The baby was still fussing softly. Saphira leaned down and gently took Ren out of his arms. Eragon didn’t even react. Saphira then started to rock the baby softly. 

As she did so, she noticed that Ren was slowly starting to develop a different kind of smell. She supposed that was normal. He would soon get his own eye colour as well. But unfortunately it was already too late. Formora knew whose son Ren was. Saphira bit her lip and continued to rock him.

After a couple of minutes, Ren finally stopped fussing and fell asleep. Saphira put him into his basket and focused her attention on Eragon again. 

She was about to open her mouth when Vanir pushed away from the wall. He strode over to Brom and talked to him briskly, but quietly. Brom nodded. She gasped when she felt and saw them banish the shield. Vanir was running out of the room not even a second later. 

She didn’t waste a second to wonder what was going on before running after him. She felt Aksel follow them. 

Vanir shot outside and Saphira shot out right after him. He turned left and skidded around the house. Saphira didn’t let Aksel catch up before running after the magician. She nearly fell when she stopped at the sight that met her.

Murtagh lay on a patch of snow. While most of the snow had melted, not all of it had. It was still winter, after all. But Saphira doubted she would have been able to recognize him hadn’t it been for the clothes he was wearing and his dark hair. He looked like an absolute mess. Even his clothes were barely there anymore. 

“Help me get him inside,” Vanir said briskly. 

Saphira nodded.

“Not you,” Vanir shook his head. “Aksel. You look out for vampires.”

Saphira nodded again. She watched a green-faced Aksel walk up from beside her and grip Murtagh’s legs. Vanir grabbed his torso and together they lifted him up. Saphira flinched when she noticed the large red stain on the snow.

When Vanir and Aksel reached her side, she turned around sharply. Her eyes had already gotten used to their new task, though she could still see the red stain in the snow before her eyes. Even so, she scouted the grounds for vampires or anyone else that didn’t belong there. 

When they made it back to the living room, Brom was waiting for them. He and Vanir exchanged looks before Saphira felt the shield come back up. She glanced at Murtagh worriedly, but he didn’t flinch or move at all.

“It only keeps vampires out. It won’t affect the ones that are already inside,” Brom said gruffly. “Come, I have a room you can put him in.”

Saphira followed them into the room Brom showed them. It was down the hall Brom lived in; in the middle of Brom’s private quarters and the room the others were currently in. Aksel left as soon as Murtagh was laid down on the bed.

“Saphira, could you get the duffle bag that’s in my room?” Vanir asked. “I have at least one bottle of blood in there. But we need more.”  
  
“I can run to your house.”

“No. I have wards around it. I doubt they’ll let you in,” Vanir scowled. “If you could take care of the healing until I get back, Teller?” 

Brom grunted. Vanir nodded sharply before stalking out of the room. Saphira saw Brom activate a different kind of seal on his arm before she walked to find the duffle bag Vanir had spoken of.

She came back not a minute after she had left. She had found the duffle and the bottle inside it easily. It was so small that she knew it couldn’t possibly have enough blood to replace what Murtagh had lost. 

When she stepped back into the room, she saw Brom mending Murtagh’s cuts. She walked up to the bed and stood on the other side of the ex-rider. She put the bottle down on the nightstand and watched him work.

“Vanir will take care of the internal injuries. My magic isn’t what it used to be. I can mend the skin, but...” Brom looked up at her before focusing back on the vampire. 

Saphira bit her lip. She wanted to ask why, but it wasn’t her place. So she watched him heal Murtagh instead. 

“Sir?” she said after roughly two minutes of silence.

Brom looked up, though he didn’t stop what he was doing.

“What do you think of Murtagh?” 

“Hm,” Brom grunted. “He was on the way to become quite the nice copy of his father. But now, I have to say he’s changed a bit. Not nearly enough for me to let him be near Eragon for more than five minutes at a time.”

“You’re referring to the fact that he’s willing to fight to protect Eragon and Ren, right?” Saphira asked meekly. 

“Yes,” Brom’s hands stopped glowing and he took a step back. “I honestly never believed that the son of Morzan would ever even consider doing that.”

Saphira nodded. She estimated that Vanir would come back in roughly five minutes. That meant that she still had time to question her old teacher.

“Um, sir?” she licked her lips. “Do you know something about vampire customs?” 

Brom crocked an eyebrow at her. He rolled down his sleeves and cracked his knuckles.

“I do. It’s a part of my job description.” 

“Well, you never taught it, so I was wondering...” she looked away.

“Yes?” Brom sounded uncharacteristically kind as he spoke. 

“Do you know a lot about vampire courting?” Saphira looked back at him as she finished speaking. 

For a minute, Brom didn’t say anything. He looked at her with a calculated and guarded gaze. Saphira looked back at him kindly.

“I know some,” he replied finally.

“Could you...teach me someday?” she stroked her collar bone as she spoke.

Brom grunted. Vanir entered the room then. Apparently he didn’t need more time to get to Thorn and Murtagh’s house and back. Saphira was about to exit the room when she saw Brom give her a small nod. She nodded back and left.

**::OBSESSION::**  

Eragon’s gaze hadn’t left Ren since Saphira, Vanir and Aksel had left the room. Even when Aksel came back and Brom had gone in his place, he hadn’t looked up. The only reason he knew Aksel was back was because he heard him and Brom exchange a few words. Then he heard the older man leave.

Arya and Nasuada came to sit beside him not long after Brom had left. Aksel sat down in closer to the foot of the bed, a little away from them.

“Are you sure you’re alright?” Arya asked him softly.

Eragon nodded.

“It’s alright if you feel shaken,” Nasuada continued. “The rest of us are, and his eyes weren’t pointed at us.”

He blinked heavily and looked up. He felt tired for some reason. He wasn’t shaken, not anymore. Ren had fallen asleep, so the danger must be over. Eragon just wasn’t sure what to feel about that, even though he didn’t know the outcome yet.

“Aksel,” Arya piped up. “Your shirt.” 

Eragon looked at him. Aksel blinked in confusion and looked down at himself.

“Oh, will you look at that,” Aksel cringed. “I’ll wash it later.”

Eragon couldn’t help but to stare at the stain on the chimera’s shirt, even as Aksel pulled it over his head. When he looked closer, he could even see the same stains on Aksel’s hands. _Blood_. 

“It ain’t mine. I’m good,” he said and balled the shirt up. “Good thing this was black, ey?” 

“Whose is it?” Nasuada asked. 

“It’s...” Aksel trailed off. “Um, you-know-who’s.” 

“What?”

Eragon wasn’t sure who said this, and neither did he care. Blood. Murtagh was injured. 

“Oh, he’ll make it,” the blond continued. “The Teach and Vanir are patching him up. You should have seen how the other guy looked, though. The vamp got lucky.”

“Murtagh, you mean?” Arya frowned. 

“Yeah, he got lucky,” Aksel nodded. “The other guy was toast.”

The brunet felt his breath catch. Murtagh had killed another vampire? Eragon looked down at Ren. He really was getting himself into dangerous waters. Suddenly he felt very relieved that Murtagh had no intention of pursuing him. If he had, Eragon had a feeling he wouldn’t have been able to say no to him and live. 

Nonetheless, he felt a little worried. Was Murtagh alright? 

And while he was on that subject, he needed to get rid of those thoughts, and that fast. Nothing was going to happen between them, and neither did he want it to. Murtagh was completely wrong for him. He was dangerous and wanted to kill him. Just getting used to Murtagh’s presence was dangerous. It would be better if Murtagh died.

And yet...yet Eragon found himself hoping that he’d survive. But it was just because he wanted to at least give Ren a chance to meet his father and remember it. Ren deserved that, even if Eragon didn’t want Murtagh to be an active part of his life.

Murtagh had always been and would always be a predator. He would not allow his son to grow up around such a person. 

“Eragon?” Arya touched his shoulder softly. 

Eragon jumped. He looked at them blearily. 

“You don’t look to good. Are you really sure you’re alright?” she asked. 

“Yeah,” Eragon replied. “I’m just tired. The action is over, you know. The adrenaline has gone with it.”

Arya grasped his shoulder a little tighter, but not painfully so. Eragon could see it in her eyes that she didn’t believe him. 

Saphira entered the room then. She walked past Thorn and put her hand on Eragon’s other shoulder.

“I’m fine.” 

She narrowed her eyes. She didn’t believe him either. 

“We should all get some sleep,” Saphira said and looked away from her rider. “It’s safe. And while I don’t know the full prognosis yet, but I think Murtagh is going to make it just fine.” 

Eragon felt his shoulders sag a little. Arya’s grip tightened almost in reflex. 

“We’ll go to bed, then,” Nasuada said and stood. 

Arya stood up as well, finally letting go of Eragon’s shoulder. They said their goodnights and left. Eragon noticed that Arya and Saphira had shared a glance before they left.

“Eragon -” 

“It’s fine. I just need to sleep. I’ll be fine in the morning,” he interrupted her. 

Saphira nodded slowly. She looked like she wanted to say something else, but didn’t.

“Aksel, can you help Eragon to his room. I think I’ll stay here with Thorn tonight,” she murmured.

Aksel nodded. Eragon reached for Ren’s basket, but Aksel beat him to it. 

“I can take the tyke. You just make sure you can stand on your own two feet,” Aksel said and let out a half-smile. 

Eragon noticed that the smile didn’t look quite right on his face. He nodded nonetheless and got up. To his surprise, his knees did feel wobbly. He said goodnight to Saphira and walked out slowly. 

They took their time as they walked. Eragon instantly felt when they passed the room Murtagh was in. The magic was rolling out from under the door, soothing him and choking him all at once. They walked a little quicker past that room. 

“Here we are,” Aksel said when they finally reached Eragon’s room.

Eragon took Ren’s basket from him. 

“It’s gonna be ok,” Aksel patted his shoulder. 

“Why do you guys keep saying that?” Eragon frowned. 

“Because you look like you’re about to cry, dude,” the chimera said sheepishly. 

“I’m not.”

Aksel just nodded. He said goodnight and left. 

Eragon watched him walk down the hall and slip into his own room. He sighed and opened the door behind him and slipped inside. The door barely made a sound as it fell shut.

**::OBSESSION::**

Thorn woke up with a blinding headache. He let out a pained groan and covered his eyes with his hands. Granted, he hadn’t even opened his eyes yet, but judging by the light streaming across his eyelids, it was morning. And that little stream of light was enough to set the headache off. 

As suddenly as the light had come, it was gone. 

“Is that better?”

He knew that voice.

“Saphira?” he winced when he heard his gruff and groggy voice. “How long was I out?” 

“Ten hours,” Saphira answered softly. “Vanir stopped by and healed you.”

Healed him? Thorn frowned. Why would he need healing?

And then last night came back to him. He sat up so fast he nearly tumbled off the bed. Saphira was instantly there, guiding him back down onto the mattress. 

“How is Murtagh? Is he alive? Is he awake?” he spluttered. 

“Murtagh is alive and is recovering. He hasn’t woken up yet, though,” Saphira murmured and ran a hand gently through his hair. “Vanir is ready for a feeding frenzy when Murtagh wakes up. He lost a lot of blood. He managed to take out one of the vampires, though.” 

Thorn let out a hollow laugh. He was relieved, really, but it was concerning to hear that Murtagh had slain another vampire. Just how many murders could his rider get away with before the vampire council came after him? 

“Aren’t you relieved?” 

He opened his eyes again and looked up at her. The previous night had obviously taken a toll on her. But Thorn could see that the worry in his eyes wasn’t just directed at him. He knew that if he looked into a mirror, he could see the same worry in his eyes that were in hers. She was worried about her rider. 

“I am,” he replied finally. “But I’m worried.” 

Saphira bit her lip and nodded. 

“No one else was hurt during the whole ordeal, right?” Thorn asked. 

“No, just you and Murtagh,” she gripped one of his hands.

“But you’re worried about Eragon, aren’t you?” he said and squeezed her hand back.

Saphira sighed. She looked away from him for a moment. Thorn watched her face as it clouded over in a mixture of wonder and worry. She looked back at him, her face soft once again. 

“I am. He doesn’t know how to deal with everything that’s going on,” she sighed again. “Apparently he didn’t realise just how far Murtagh intended to protect him. I think that’s it, but I’m not sure. He hasn’t talked to me since yesterday.” 

“You know you have to talk to him,” he said firmly. 

She nodded.

“I doubt he’s falling for Murtagh, but...if he starts to care about him, and Murtagh dies...” she shook her head. 

“How the hell could he care about my pathetic excuse of a rider?” Thorn crocked an eyebrow.

“Well, I don’t know how far he has gotten in it, but Eragon has started to read a book about vampire customs. He’s obviously trying to educate himself further about the situation he’s in. If he starts to understand Murtagh more, then maybe...I’m afraid Eragon will start to sympathise with him.” 

Thorn blinked. That seemed bloody impossible in his eyes, but she did know Eragon better than he did.

“I need to talk to him. I don’t like that his view of Murtagh is changing so suddenly. This is a purely selfish act on Murtagh’s behalf, and I need to make Eragon see that,” she continued. 

Thorn raised his arm and put a finger to her lips. She fell silent. He gave her a crocked smile. 

“Worry about that when you get to him, alright? There’s no need to work yourself up in a frenzy right now.” 

Saphira nodded. He lowered his arm again and just gazed up at her. 

“Are you feeling better?” she inched closer. 

“I am. Though I still have a killer headache,” he said teasingly. 

Saphira smiled slightly. 

“But don’t worry about me. Your rider needs you,” Thorn squeezed her hand again.

 An emotion flashed in her eyes. Thorn knew what it was, but didn’t want to put a name on it. He had seen the same emotion flash through his own eyes before.

“I will go and check up on him soon. You should stay in touch with Vanir. He’s around somewhere,” she sighed. “He’s most likely with Brom or in Murtagh’s room.”

“I’m sure I’ll find him.”

Saphira nodded. She stood, but didn’t let go of his hand. She hesitated. Thorn frowned slightly. She let out another sigh before leaning down and kissing him softly. A spark shot through him. He cradled the back of her neck gently and kissed her back. 

She leaned back and rubbed their noses together. She then smiled and sent him a wink. Thorn watched her walk out of the room with a sombre look on his face. _Soon_ , he promised softly. _Soon_. 

**::OBSESSION::**  

Saphira made her way to Eragon’s room in silence. She walked a little slower past Murtagh’s room, but inside there was only silence. She could still sense the vampire and wasn’t surprised when she sensed Vanir in there as well. 

No one had told her to, but she was going to keep Eragon in his room or at least at the other side of the manor until Murtagh woke up, had fed, was declared healthy and could leave. She did not want them in the same room again. Something didn’t feel right between them, and since she didn’t trust Murtagh at all, she was going to keep her rider safe.

She just hoped Murtagh wasn’t in the need for any fresh blood. 

Saphira quickened her steps and finally found herself outside Eragon’s room. She knocked. 

“Yeah?” 

She opened the door and walked inside. She found Eragon changing Ren’s diaper. Every five seconds or so, his nose would twitch. She smiled. Even he hadn’t gotten used to changing diapers yet.

“Hey Saph,” Eragon looked up and gave her a fake smile. 

It hurt to see him put on a mask. He obviously wasn’t feeling well or as calm as he appeared. And judging by his pale skin and dark circles under his eyes, it was obvious that he hadn’t gotten that much sleep last night.

“How are you, Eragon?” 

Eragon picked Ren up and put him down in his crib. He ran his hand along the railing before turning to face her.

“I’m ok,” he said eventually. 

“No, you’re not,” she crossed her arms.

Eragon looked away. Saphira walked up to him and cupped his face with her hands. 

“No one expects you to be fine after what happened yesterday. No one expects you to go through this alone,” she said softly. “I’m here. Talk to me. Please.” 

He bit his lip. 

“It’s nothing, really,” he shrugged. 

“Then how come it’s something?” she let go of his face. “Come on.” 

Eragon passively let her lead him over to his bed. She gently coaxed him to sit down before sitting down beside him. 

“Tell me what’s going on in here,” she said and poked his forehead softly. 

“It’s...I don’t...” he clenched his hands together in an obvious show of frustration. “Why was I worried about Murtagh?” 

She stroked a hand through his hair. 

“I don’t know. Maybe...maybe it’s like you said to Thorn and me earlier. Maybe you’re starting to accept him.”  
  
“But I don’t want to!” he looked at her desperately. “He’s a killer. I can’t allow him into me and my son’s life. And yet...and yet I feel like I’m being unfair to him, like he has a right to get to know Ren.”

Saphira continued to stroke her hand through his hair, allowing their bond to send out calming waves. Sadly, she could feel that he wasn’t intercepting them. He truly was distressed. 

“Sometimes the mind can’t control the actions of the heart,” she murmured.

Eragon stared at her in shock.

“I don’t care for him. At all.”

Saphira could see that he wanted to believe that, and that a part of him did, but it was obvious that his heart or mind saw Murtagh actions as some sort of sacrifice. The thoughts those actions provoked were clearly having an effect on him. 

“You do a little,” Saphira told him softly. “You refused to move until Thorn told you Murtagh could take care of himself. Maybe this is an effect of the bond.”

“Why should it be?” he spluttered. “It’s not like we -” 

“I know, Eragon. Don’t panic on me,” she gripped his shoulder. “What I’m saying is that maybe your closeness is stirring some part of the bond. It’s obvious that he worries for your and Ren’s safety. Maybe that in turn makes you worry about his?” 

“Why should he worry?” he shook his head. “He -” 

“He worries,” Saphira shot in before he could continue. “He’s here each night because he worries. You are his life source and Ren is his child.”

“But -” 

“So he worries and plots to keep you safe,” she interrupted him again. “No amount of denial can overshadow the truth of that, Eragon. I’m not saying he loves you, but he _is_ possessive of you. He has been possessive of you from the very beginning; now he’s just possessive of you in a more...normal way.” 

“You mean that he’s gone from not allowing anyone but himself to kill me to not allowing anyone to kill me whatsoever? Yeah, that’s normal,” Eragon snorted.

“Fine, so I have no idea what goes on in his head,” Saphira pursed her lips. “But I can tell you that he worries about your health and safety. That he’s showing that side to you is probably what set of your own worry. Because if you’re falling for him already, Eragon, I swear to God -” 

“What?!” he squeaked. “Falling for him?? No!”

Saphira let out a relieved breath. She hadn’t been sure earlier, but she was now. 

“And what did you mean by ‘already’?” he asked suspiciously.

Oops, Saphira winced. 

“Nothing. I was just voicing my thoughts out loud.”

Eragon narrowed his eyes at her.

“That made no sense whatsoever. What are you keeping from me?” he asked. 

“Just private wishes of a simpler and better future. Don’t think too much of it,” she smiled at him. “It was an innocent comment.”  
  
“After what you just said, I honestly doubt that,” he crossed his arms. “Are you saying that you...hope he and I get together someday?” 

A part of her did, yes, but that was the naïve part. It would seem perfect if they got together like she instinctively knew she and Thorn would. But she knew it would never happen. It didn’t stop that one part of her from wishing it, though. But she just wished it. She didn’t bother to hope. That meant she could tell a little white lie.

“No,” she sighed. “No, Eragon.” 

Eragon was still looking at her suspiciously. Eventually the frown faded away and he sighed.

“Fine.” 

Saphira gave him another soft smile. 

“So don’t worry too much about what happened yesterday, alright? Murtagh did what he was supposed to do, and they probably won’t come back for a while,” she patted his shoulder.  “You just worry about raising Ren.”

Eragon gave her a soft look of gratitude. Saphira winked at him. 

But what she really wished now was that she could make all her own troubles go away as easily. 

**::OBSESSION::**  

Murtagh woke up wishing he was dead. He had forgotten how much it hurt to heal from vampire induced injuries. And while he could feel that most of his injuries had been taken care of, some were still very much there. And the damn vampire venom from the twins biting him was still circling around in his bloodstream. 

He opened his mouth, only to wish he hadn’t. An animalistic and pained groan left his lips. He didn’t dare to open his eyes. He knew he would just see a red haze from the bleeding of his eyes and from being disoriented. Murtagh much preferred not to see at all and just feel the dizziness.

Once those thoughts left his mind, he was painfully aware of every beating heart in the nearest vicinity. Fuck, he needed to feed, and that fast. Especially since there was someone in the room with him. Were they suicidal?! He had shown he was awake! Either they fed him, or they became food. 

The person inside the room was still a few feet away from him. Ok, good. If they came closer, Murtagh could no longer be sure of his own restraints.

And then they started to come closer.

What the fuck were they doing!? Did they want to die??

“Open your mouth.”

He knew that voice. That didn’t mean that he was going to obey. If he opened his mouth, he attacked. For some reason, he wasn’t comfortable with that math.

“Open your damn mouth,” the voice said gruffly. 

Murtagh still refused to obey. A sudden poke to his still tender ribs caused him to groan out loud. It was then he felt the tip of a drinking bottle being pressed to his lips. The moment he felt the first drop of blood hit his tongue, he realised he had underestimated how hungry he was. He wasn’t just hungry, he was _famished_. 

Murtagh grabbed the bottle out of the other’s hands and drank the contents quickly. Before he could demand to get more, he found another bottle being pressed into his hands. He drank that one too. He drowned two more bottles and half of the fifth. It was then he started to slow down.

He held the bottle out and felt it being taken from his hands. He then began to push himself up.

“Are you crazy? You’re staying put.”

Murtagh opened his eyes. The glare from the lights made him squeeze his eyes shut, but not before he managed to register where he was and who he was with.

“Where the fuck am I?” he groaned.

The room had looked completely unfamiliar. It had given off a vaguely familiar smell, but not enough for him to pinpoint where he was.

“This is one of Teller’s many guest rooms; your residence for the past day and a half,” Vanir said dryly. 

“What?!”

“You’ve been out for a day and a half,” Vanir drawled. “Even healing you didn’t bring you back to the waking world. But don’t worry; no attacks have been made during your little nap.”

Murtagh flipped him off. He was a little amazed that he had the strength to do it, even though he was a vampire and healed fast. Vampire venom didn’t clear out of people’s systems quickly, even if the person that had gotten a dose was another vampire. 

“No one has been worried about me, I hope,” he said sarcastically. 

“Well, Thorn wants to kick your ass, but otherwise no one else has expressed any worry towards your person.”

“Oh, I feel so appreciated,” he snorted. “Can I get up now?” 

“No,” Vanir said, and Murtagh could just tell he had rolled his eyes. “You’re staying put for at least another day. We want to make sure no permanent damage was done during your little fight.”

“Permanent damage? I’m a vampire. You can’t do any permanent damage on me,” he laughed.

“If you got your arm ripped off, it would stay ripped off,” the magician informed him dryly. “You can’t grow a limb. Luckily for you, all your limbs are intact.”

“Lucky me indeed,” Murtagh drawled. 

Vanir snorted.

“You should probably get some more sleep. At least you won’t wake up ravenous this time. I’ll leave you to it.”

Vanir left before Murtagh could say anything to stop him, not that he would have. He barely noticed the shield going up outside his door before falling back into an exhausted sleep.

 


End file.
